The Magical Bat Year III
by karanne
Summary: The third year of Mattie Wayne's magical education at Hogwarts.
1. Prologue, Third Year

The Magical Bat III.

#include stdDisclaimer.h: Batman, Catwoman, Alfred, Babs, Dick, Lucius Fox, and the others, are DC Comic's toys. Hogwarts, Albus, Minerva, the Weasleys and the others in the Potterverse belong to the fabulous JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them, and they'll be put back on the shelf later. The Morton family is used with the permission of GITM. Everyone else, they're mine. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2005 Kara Anne Kalel karanne AT gmail DOT com. All rights reserved. No money is made, and no infringement is implied or intended.

This is a sequel to my stories: The Bat & the Cat, redux (0), The Magical Bat (1), Magical Bat: road trip (1.5), Magical Bat II (2), and Magical Bat: Training Trip (2.5).

------------------------  
1 – Prologue, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Monday, August 14, 2000:  
Gotham City, Batcave: 02:43  
_**------------------------

"The Death Protocols," Selina said hollowly, looking at her family. "Dick, you'll have to take over patrols. Doc, we'll have to create some plausible scenario for ... for Bruce's death; Mattie, you have a meeting in London in a few hours."

"You think I want to go to a damned _meeting_?"

"You have to maintain cover!" her mother snapped, still in her dirty, torn Batgirl uniform. With a savage yank, she pulled her cowl off, "You think I'm in any mood to go to a damned breakfast with airhead society women? I'll go; I'll make polite chit-chat to pry money out of them while I want to strangle each one! I just lost my **_husband!_**"

"There is one other thing to consider," Doc said. "The boy, Tomas, is now not only homeless but an orphan." Selina glared at him, "In addition, he had this on him. I removed it; it would only raise questions with Emergency Services." He passed a small envelope to Selina.

_Mr. Tomas Ramirez  
Emergency room, Bed #3  
Gotham General Hospital  
Gotham City _

"A Hogwarts letter?" Selina asked.

"He has to go," Mattie said. "A wizard in a muggle orphanage created Voldemort. He has to go, and we have to adopt him."

"You're sure?"

"That's what Professor Dumbledore and Professor Harry said," Mattie replied.

------------------------  
**_Monday, August 14, 2000:  
Earth, London: 08:13 (GMT)  
_**------------------------

Dressed in a conservative muggle skirted suit and carrying a briefcase, Mattie joined the throng of commuters leaving Charing Cross station. She walked the few blocks to the Cauldron, Tom looking up and saying, "G'morning, Miss Wayne."

"Good morning, Tom. Is anyone else here?"

"Miss Johnson arrived a moment ago; we're set for you in #3." He nodded, "Down that hall, second on the right."

------------------------

"Morning, Amy," Mattie said, putting her briefcase down as she pulled out her chair. "Rough night last night?"

"Better than it has been, at least I could sleep through it," she yawned, eyeing her boss. "You don't look the best either." She pushed the carafe of coffee toward Mattie.

"A _very_ long flight and a family emergency at home," Mattie said, standing again as the player representatives came in, followed by Sheila and Griplink. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Shall we get started?"

------------------------

"A fifty galleon bonus per each goal scored, Ms. Peters? I think that's a bit rich," Mattie said, "Considering you're not asking for similar bonuses for the other three positions..."

"The chasers do most of the scoring," Peters argued back. "If we do our jobs right, the keepers simply float there."

"Ah, but have you been doing your jobs right?" Amy asked. "Wheeler and House have the lowest scoring percentage in the league. As it is, you score, on average, only twelve goals a game."

"I would be more inclined to agree to this if the scoring was up," Mattie said. "Perhaps this would work: the chasers qualify for a bonus, per game, after we score our fifteenth goal, and the bonus amount is five galleons."

"Forty."

"Ten."

"Thirty."

"Twenty."

Griplink gave a slight nod, and Mattie said, "Deal, but Wheeler and House are on probation. Moving on to those rather bored keepers, I notice that Mr. Valdez blocking percentage has slipped recently..."

------------------------

"Before we move on to the new talent, why don't we take a quick break?" Ms. Peters suggested.

Mattie frowned as the woman bit her lip, trying not to squirm. "I think we could use a break," she agreed. "Why don't we get a cuppa and resume in fifteen minutes or so?"

Peters shot a glance at the teapot, then nodded and quickly strolled out. Mattie waited a minute; then followed her, turning for the loo.

------------------------

Mattie speed-dialed 1 and asked Babs, "How are things?"

"Weird. I can't believe he's gone."

"Do we have a plan yet?"

"Yeah, the golf shed took a lightning hit during the thunderstorm last night; Bruce was knocked unconscious and died from the smoke while Selina was out. It matches the actual cause of death. As far as Mrs. Ramirez and Tomas, Batman had spare rebreathers, but as an adult, hers ran out first. We used Selina's for that. By the way, we've filed paperwork to adopt Tomas."

"All right, I'll set things up for him over here, and fly him over when the medics release him. Gotta go, Albus wants a word with me." Mattie thumbed the kill switch on her phone, smiling at her former Headmaster.

"Is there a problem, Miss Wayne?" he asked, casting a privacy spell. "You are broadcasting rage and grief with considerable power, and it is giving me a headache."

Mattie considered him, closing her mental shields tightly. He sighed in relief; then raised an eyebrow. "My father died last night, Headmaster," she admitted, adding, "We couldn't save him."

"Ah. My sympathies. Please let me know when the funeral is, he was a most remarkable man."

"He was able to save a life, Headmaster. I think he preferred to go that way, especially since that boy had a Hogwarts letter." Mattie was keeping tight control. "If you'll excuse me, I need a word with Mr. Griplink about him. We're adopting Tomas, you see."

"Please let me know if there is anything I can do, Miss Wayne," Albus insisted as he banished the privacy spell.

------------------------

"Regarding Mr. Slater," Peters said, "He just barely beat out Ms. Michaels in testing, however, there's a question." She swallowed, "He's a werewolf."

Mattie kicked Amy under the table, "His medical condition affects his play?"

"No, no!" Peters looked nervous, "It's just that, well, there's some bad publicity, and a bit of worry about being an unfair advantage..."

"Bad publicity is my problem, not yours, Ms. Peters, and I don't think a 'wolf is any stronger than a well-muscled normal person. Aside from his medical condition, what would you recommend for Mr. Slater and Ms. Michaels?"

"Retainer for both of them until they finish school," Ms. Feller, the player's solicitor said. "Then invite them back for a second round of tryouts. There's another bloke at Hogwarts, the Gryff keeper, which shows promise. I'd keep an eye on him."

"I have been," Mattie said, to general chuckles. "Please send a letter of retainer to both Mr. Slater and Ms. Michaels, and any questions regarding medical conditions should be addressed to Healer Sloan, with an information copy to me. Moving on..."

------------------------

"Mr. Griplink, a word?" Mattie said as the meeting broke up, waving Aunt Sheila over.

"What is it, Miss Wayne?" he asked, casting a privacy spell of his own.

"My father... my father died last night," she said, before breaking down in tears, crying on his shoulder as Sheila joined her.

"Oh, my," he said. "Oh, my dear," he said as he tried to comfort them. "Please, let me know when the service is. I'm certain Mr. Mackrack will also wish to attend." Mattie snuffled something, and he asked awkwardly, "How... how did he?"

"Saving a life," she said, "A homeless boy named Tomas, Tomas Ramirez, we'll be adopting him. He got a Hogwarts letter, it was in his pocket."

"We shall do everything possible for Mr. Ramirez, and for you, of course." Sheila whispered something Mattie couldn't hear, Griplink saying, "Of course, Ms. Hawking, I shall personally handle it. Mr. Ramirez is kin, after all."

------------------------

The door to muggle London tinkled, and a young redheaded woman came through, followed by about twenty parents and their children. Tom stood up, "Ah, Mrs. Potter! Are these the new students?"

"Brings back memories," Mattie confided to Albus at the bar, whose eyes twinkled. "I've taken up enough of your time, professor. Might I use your floo?"

"Were you thinking of visiting Miss Tonks?" he inquired. "I understand she'll be popping in for her school supplies. If you like, I'll inform her you've returned when she appears."

"I would appreciate that," she smiled. "I'm going to get my own shopping done after I visit Gringotts; then I need to see Blaise and the Wheeze." Standing, she gave him a quick hug, "Later, professor."

------------------------

"Don't you look the proper muggle," and Mattie turned, "Sprink!"

"Mattie!" she squealed, diving into the hug, then holding her at arm's length, "What's wrong, mate? You smell sad, no," she sniffed again, "That's grief." Sprink steered her to a chair at Florean's, asking quietly, "Who?"

"My father," Mattie said, breaking down again. After a while, she dried out, muttering, "I feel like an idiot."

"For grieving for your pa?" Sprink snorted, handing her another hankie. "It's natural to grieve. How...?"

"Saving a life," she replied quietly. "A homeless boy, he had a Hogwarts letter, and we're adopting him."

"There are worse ways to go," Sprink said. "This bloke..."

"Tomas."

"Tomas, well, he's now got _two_ big sisters to keep an eye out, mate." She held Mattie at arm's length, "Let me know when the funeral is."

------------------------  
**_Friday, August 18, 2000:  
Gotham City, St. Michael's Cathedral: 13:48  
_**------------------------

The press briefing by attorney Sheila Hawking had been brief and to the point. "Ladies and gentlemen, in deference to the family's wishes, we ask that you respect the privacy of the attendees. Mr. Wayne will be buried in the family plot at Wayne Manor. Thank you."

This cryptic announcement only fueled the media frenzy. However, their long-range cameras could not focus on the public televisions set up outside the cathedral, and news helicopters and satellite trucks suffered mysterious breakdowns before they arrived at the site. Newscrews with shoulder-carried minicams were forced to retreat by bystanders to the dubious safety of their television trucks, while Gotham police looked away. Only one was allowed in by the family, Shawna Foxx, a morning DJ for WGHO, a local radio station. One blow-dried newsie from a New York station was heard to comment, "This town is insane! I don't get combat pay, I'm outta here."

------------------------

The apparition point was in a corner of the side room, with the fireplace being temporarily connected to the Floo network. Harry, Ginny, and Professor Lara Croft welcomed the arriving witches and wizards, made sure they were suitably 'muggled' in appearance, and gave them a brief overview of the service.

Roshawn, Shaundra and their parents had just arrived when two goblins stepped out of the floo. "Allow me, sir," Shaundra said, dusting off the senior of the two, then the other.

"Miss Shaundra Cortez, if I remember correctly," Griplink said, and she blushed as he turned, "Your sister Roshawn, also, and Mr. and Mrs. Cortez. Allow me to present Mr. Mackrack, the chairman of Gringotts."

"Cortez, Cortez," the chairman mused, then brightening, "I do hope you girls are feeling better after that horrible misadventure?"

"Very much so, sir. Thank you for asking," Shaundra said. "May we escort you? I do confess to an ulterior motive."

"We would be very pleased to have such lovely young ladies on our arm," Griplink said, adding, "What, pray tell is your ulterior motive?" He patted Roshawn's hand.

"We've made a few galleons inventing things with the Weasleys, and we were thinking of investing," her sister said. "While we're not on Mattie's scale, we would like a decent return, to save up for retirement, you see."

"Excellent!" Mackrack crowed as they joined the line. He ignored the raised eyebrows. "I can see we're going to have to discuss stock issue with the Weasleys again. They are getting too big for a partnership." The line moved forward, and he seized the pen, signing the guest book '_Mackrack, Chairman, Gringotts Bank_', just below a scrawled '_C. Clinton, Washington_'. He passed the pen to Shaundra, who signed '_Shaundra Cortez, New York City_'. Mackrack patted her hand, "Now then, aside from the Weasleys, we do have several very nice packages for the smaller investor. Possibly some mutual funds..."

------------------------

Sprink and her family stepped out of the floo, glancing around at the stained glass. "Most impressive," Bellatrix allowed as Tonks dusted her off. "The muggles certainly do have some impressive architecture."

"They certainly do, Ms. Black," Harry said as he looked her over. "This is only the anteroom we're in at the moment; the church is much more impressive. I believe it's the third largest on the continent. However, they don't use robes, so if you could shrink them, please? Also, a black dress is traditional for funerals."

"Thank you, P'fessor," Sprink said, waving her wand. "What's next?"

"Miss Tonks, I have a note for you from Miss Wayne," Harry said as Lara and Ginny moved to the arrival of several students. He raised his voice, "Outside, you'll be able to see the floral arrangements Hogwarts and others have sent. They are quite impressive. Gentlemen will escort ladies, you will join a line to sign a guest book, then greet the family in a receiving line. As there are several very high ranking persons attending, you will pass through a metal detector. If you have any metal on you larger than a small pin, either transfigure it or leave it here." He motioned to two beefy fellows in sunglasses and dark suits. "Agent Smith from the United States Secret Service and Mr. Clarke of SO14 will answer any questions, but if you have doubts, leave it here."

------------------------

"Oh, my, pretty flowers," Sprink said as the line moved slowly forward. "United Steelworkers, the Dockworkers, an' I wonder who the Teamsters are."

"There's Gringotts'," Terry Higgs said. "It's bloody huge, and Hogwarts' looks puny next to it." He grinned, "The florists must be having a banner day."

"True," Ian said, Bellatrix on his arm, "They're doing a funeral up right."

"Bloody hell, that's Mackrack up ahead," Ron hissed, Hermione on his arm. She swatted him, "Language, Ron!"

"Thank you, Hermione," Molly said from behind them. Blaise snickered on Frank's arm, opening her purse to ask, "You all right in there, you two?"

"We're fine, Blaisling," Draco said, the Baron echoing, "Thank you very much, Miss Zabini. We wish to keep a lookout for Mr. Wayne."

"Shall I sign for you two?" she asked, the Baron replying, "Of course." She signed, '_Draco and the Baron, Hogwarts_', before passing the pen on.

"What do you have in the bag, ma'am?" a security guard asked. She replied, "The usual kit, and two friendly ghosts."

"Open the bag and put it on the belt, please," he motioned, not blinking an eye at seeing two ghosts. Blaise did so, walking through the scanner, and reclaiming her bag.

"Oh, my!" the Baron said, floating out of the bag and looking about. "If I weren't bound to Hogwarts, I wouldn't mind spending eternity here." Behind Blaise, a muggle gave a small shriek, Draco turning to look at her. Blaise smiled, "Don't mind them, they won't hurt you. They're keeping an eye out for Mr. Wayne." Draco and the Baron vanished, Blaise moving on as the husband fanned his wife.

Blaise did agree with the Baron, the church was absolutely HUGE, and packed full. The tall stained glass windows filled the church with colour, yet more flowers filled the sanctuary. Frank asked, "Where shall we sit?"

"Where there's room, I 'spect," she answered, looking about. The heavy oak casket lay on a marble slab, a beam of sunlight illuminating it, the heady scent of flowers filling the air as organ music played. Frank nudged her, "Over there, there's two next to Sprout and Dumbledore."

------------------------

"Hello, Bruce, and welcome to the afterlife."

Bruce spun, looking around. "Mother? Father? " He glanced down, he wasn't wearing his Batsuit, instead it most closely resembled a martial arts gi. He was barefoot, but that didn't seem to bother him.

Two shapes appeared, "Bruce, I'd like you to meet someone," his father said. "Please come with us." Bruce ran through lists of possible outcomes, but he needed more data. "Always the scientist," his mother chuckled. "Please, Bruce, you're in no danger. We'd like you to meet Peter."

"Saint Peter?"

"I have been called that," a fellow with a brown beard said, chuckling. "Please, have a seat, Bruce, and we'll get the formalities out of the way." He waved a hand; a white couch appeared surrounding a circular basin, about the size of a coffee table. With a wave, a goblet appeared in Peter's hand, others appearing before Bruce and his parents, resting quite firmly on the rippling silvery surface.

"What's this?" Bruce asked.

"The goblet? Whatever you wish, Bruce. As for the table, for want of a better term, call it a scrying table. You've heard it said that our predecessors 'look down upon us from Heaven'." He chuckled, "Well, this is how it's done."

"This is Heaven? I expected something... more."

"Brass bands, angels blowing trumpets, the pearly gates, that kind of thing?" Peter shrugged, "If you want, but it's not really necessary. No, this is the only formality, we review your past life, answer any questions; decide where you're going from here. The review is really the only required bit, everything else you can change your mind on later."

"My girls, I want to see how they're getting on," Bruce declared. Peter simply nodded at the table, adding, "You can hear what they're thinking and saying, if you want." Bruce gazed at them for a few minutes, listening in silence to Selina and Mattie. He looked up at Peter, saying, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Bruce." Peter clapped his hands, "On with things! Let's take a look at you, shall we, Bruce?"

------------------------

Seating in the cathedral was first-come, with the family greeting mourners in the vestibule. When Arthur made his way in his new black suit, he murmured to Mattie, "Batman and Batgirl put in an appearance outside. Broad daylight, too."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really? I hope you got a picture."

"Elena did," he replied, motioning to his sister as he moved down to greet Mr. Kent.

------------------------

"May we join you?" Josephine Evans asked, the men standing, the youngest son saying in an English accent, "Please do, Ma'am."

"Thank you, young man. I must say, it does a body good to see manners in today's youth." She held out her hand, "Josephine and Charles Evans, and our daughter Mary."

"Charles Spencer, my mother Elizabeth, and my sons William and Harry. Harry attends school in Scotland with Miss Wayne."

Harry leaned over, "I can sympathize with Mattie, I mean Miss Wayne. I lost my mum a few years ago in a car crash in Paris. Horrible time, that was." Mary's eyes grew round as she finally recognized who she was sharing a pew with.

------------------------

Roshawn whistled silently, the church was huge, as big as St. Patrick's in New York, and as packed as a Christmas service. Looking about, she could see people she recognized from Hogwarts. Just about every member of Slytherin was there, and a good number of the other three houses. Her sister whispered, "McGonagall is sitting with Snape and Flitwick over there. Dumbledore's the next pew back with Sprout. Is there _anyone_ left in the castle?"

"Maybe the ghosts," she replied, her sister shaking her head. "I saw the Baron and Draco a minute ago. How'd they get here?"

"Dunno, but it would be fun to find out. Hey, Sprink's over there in front of Arthur and his crowd." She tugged on her mom's sleeve, "This way."

------------------------

Arthur waited as the cathedral slowly filled. Traffic was an absolute nightmare, the only reason they had been on time was Professors Dumbledore and Potter. They had set up portkeys to the cathedral and Wayne Manor for his family and other out-of-town guests. Even so, extra precautions had been taken for 'special' guests like the elves and the goblins. They sat, surrounded by wizards toward the front.

"Who's that?" Julia asked, nodding toward a very large man who was blubbering into a handkerchief.

"Hagrid, he's half-giant, he's the Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts," he whispered back. He looked about with his 'second sight', and noticed that the closed coffin was filled with sandbags. He wondered about that, fingering his invitation, which had a hand-written note reading, '_Arthur, see me after. MW_'

------------------------

The Cortez family took the pew in front of Arthur, not recognizing for a moment the Washington politician that sat in front of them. The teenage daughter turned around to glare, but the pol said, "Now, Chelsea..."

Roshawn leaned over to whisper to Sprink, who darted a glance before whispering, "Na, you're having me on, mate."

------------------------

The cameras were piped to the crowd outside (much to the frustration of the local TV stations), who could see and hear everything inside clearly. One producer in New York was heard to complain on a side channel, "What's wrong with those idiots in Gotham? Why can't we see the screens?" The local affiliate replied (mysteriously dumped to air), "Everything checks out here, we can see it fine. Who's the idiot who can't focus a monitor?" A talking head was quickly switched in.

------------------------

The last of the mourners signed the guest book, passing into the sanctuary. Lois told Selina and Mattie quietly, "Act naturally, if you feel like crying, do so. It's expected, and Mattie, Professor Dumbledore asked me to remind you about your shields."

"My Occlumency shields, I was broadcasting grief when I was in London," she said. "Thanks for reminding me, they'd slipped." She smiled wryly, "I was giving him a headache."

"The question I have is, was that fire natural, or was it arson?" Selina asked.

"The fire inspector listed it as natural, but we're looking into it ourselves," Barbara said. She glanced at Clark, "Thanks for putting on the suit earlier with me. The people needed to see the Bat."

Clark nodded, glancing at Dick, "I can do his patrol for a few weeks. We need to get going, the pastor's coming. Dick, if you can help your sister, Selina, let me help you."

Dick nodded, "One other thing, my partner Amy's figured it out, and she whispered it to me in the receiving line. I was going to invite her to the private service tonight in the cave."

------------------------

The family entered the sanctuary as the organ slowed and stopped. The cathedral was silent, except for a baby's cry (quickly hushed), whispers and the occasional sob. They made their slow way to the front pew, Mattie twisting a white hankie in her black-gloved hands. The priest mounted the pulpit, adjusting the microphone, "Dearly beloved, brothers and sisters, we are here to celebrate the life of Bruce Wayne." Selina let out a wail.

------------------------

"Father Tim, is there a back room with an outside door? I think we could use a bit of privacy and fresh air," Selina asked, after shaking hands with the mourners, thanking them for coming.

"Certainly, my child, please come this way," he said, leading them off. After twisting their way through the corridors, he opened a door, "The anteroom for a private garden. Let me just unlock the outside door for you. Please take as much time as needed, you shan't be disturbed."

"Thank you, Father," Selina said. The priest smiled and moved off, Selina flicking her veil out of the way as Mattie removed hers. "Barbara, could you..."

"Certainly, be right back."

------------------------

With a small knock, the door opened to admit Sprink, Arthur, Griplink, Harry Spencer and Headmistress McGonagall. A second later, Amy Rohrback slipped in with Dick. Selina removed her hat with the bothersome veil, "Thank you all for coming. You all are of course invited to the private service tonight in the Cave, but for now, we have another matter. When Batman (her voice caught a bit) died, he was protecting a mother and her young son. That son had a Hogwarts letter, and is now an orphan." McGonagall's eyes widened, and Sprink gasped.

"Hogwarts?" Amy whispered to Dick, who replied, "Tell you later." She nodded as Selina continued, "We will be adopting young Tomas Ramirez, but not introducing him to life in the Clan until he's ready for it. Our objective right now is to ensure he has a proper education, and to introduce him to his new family."

Mattie took over, "That's one reason I've asked you to stay behind. I'd like to ask you to keep an eye out for Tomas, no matter which house he's sorted into. He'll always have a big brother or big sister to go to, or (she nodded to Griplink and McGonagall) an adult if he needs that kind of help. Aunt Sheila will forward to you copies of any necessary paperwork you need."

"I discussed this with Mr. Mackrack earlier," Griplink said. "He agreed, Mr. Ramirez is kin to you, and therefore kin to goblins." Minerva nodded, "The staff will, I am sure, help in any way possible."

"Thank you," Mattie said. "Now, shall we meet my new brother?"

------------------------

Tomas lay in the bed in his new private room, and listlessly watched TV. He had asked for Mama, but was told she had died. He had looked through his small box of things, but his magic letter had disappeared, and with it, his dreams. He just hoped the hospital would allow him to work off his debt. After coming to America, Mama had worked so very hard to give them a new life.

The nice nurse, Maria from Guatemala, knocked and asked with a smile, "Do you feel like visitors, Tomas?"

He sighed, "I am nobody, who would visit me?"

"Tomas! You are _somebody_, and you have visitors!" she scolded as she entered the room. "Now sit up, and let me wash your face. You must be proper to see them!" She bustled into the small washroom, returning with a handcloth which she used to clean his face and hands. Combing his hair, she stood back to inspect, darting in to scrub a tear-track she had missed. She nodded once, then went to the door, "Senora Wayne, he is ready now."

'_Wayne_?' Tomas thought, glance flicking to the TV, which still showed coverage of the funeral. '_No! It cannot be!_' he thought.

"Tomas?" A beautiful dark-haired lady in a black dress stood by his bedside. "Tomas, I am Selina Wayne, I am here to help you."

His gaze flicked from her to the TV, and to another girl his age in a black dress. "I am sorry, Senora Wayne, but I do not understand."

"Maybe this will help, Tomas," the girl said, handing him ... his magic letter! She smiled, "My name is Mattie, and this letter is mine." She handed him another letter, another magic letter, addressed to her! He glanced back and forth, whispering, "Magic?"

"Yes, Tomas, magic. I can do it, and so can you," Mattie said. "I go to a special school in Scotland to learn how. The question for you Tomas, do you wish to go to school with me to learn magic?"

"I am sure that the school is very expensive, Seniorita Wayne, and I am a poor boy. I am praying that I can work off the hospital debt for myself and Mama. I thank you with all my heart, but I cannot."

"Oh, dear boy, is that what you're concerned about, _the money_?" Selina said, pulling him into a hug. "Don't worry about the money, it's all handled. That's my job, all you have to decide is to go or not." She held him at arm's length, "Wouldn't your Mama want you to go to school? To be happy?"

"Si," he whispered. "She was so excited when the bird came to deliver the magic letter, then she was so worried when the bad men came and locked us in the closet. Then the Bat-Man came to rescue us, but the door was blocked by the fire. He tried and tried to get it open, but could not. He put Mama over me and himself over Mama, and gave me a device to breathe with. He made me promise before God not to take it out until we were rescued." Mattie was crying, being hugged by Sprink, and Tomas asked, "Is the Bat-Man all right, Senora Wayne?"

Selina hugged him, "Oh, yes, Tomas, he's just fine."

Mattie wiped her eyes, "Tomas, I have a favor to ask. I have learned how to see another's memories. May I see that memory? My brother Dick (she held out her hand) is a police officer, he may recognize the bad men that killed your Mama."

"Si, for justice for Mama, who never hurt anyone, I will do this, even if it hurts like the devil himself!"

"It will not hurt, except to relive the memory," Mattie drew her wand, '_Legilmens_!'

------------------------

"Dick, are you ready?" He nodded, '_Occlumens_!'

------------------------

"Will I learn to do that?" Tomas asked, as Dick claimed a chair, rubbing his temples.

"Perhaps, child," Minerva said, coming forward. "I am Headmistress McGonagall of Hogwarts, and we have learned that every child's talents are different. Mattie is very talented in Occlumancy, as you've seen, but lacking in Transfiguration. We shall see what develops with you. Now, why don't you meet the others?"

------------------------

Babs moved over to Dick, asking quietly, "Recognize them?"

"Half a dozen of Marone's thugs. Hell Month comes early this year." He rubbed his temples, "Geez, Mattie packs a punch. I'll ask Minerva if there's a way to teach her how to moderate her power."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, August 19, 2000:  
Bludhaven, Beacon St. Dunkin' Donuts: 13:28  
_**------------------------

Dick nodded to Amy as he got his coffee. Sitting across from her, he dumped a packet of sugar into his jumbo coffee, and took a bite of donut. Chasing it with coffee, he laid a small device on the table, switching it on. With another gulp of coffee, he said, "White noise device. Fire away."

"Well, it explains the unexplained absences and lots of sick time," she grinned, and he chuckled. Laying her hand across his, she added, "Once again, my sympathies. What can and can't you tell me?"

"Nobody's secret identities, they aren't my secrets to give," he said, and she nodded. "The coffin was filled with sandbags; Bruce's body will be cremated privately, to keep ghouls like Ra's from trying to resurrect him." She winced and nodded. "The will hasn't been probated yet, but I'll probably make a buck or two, maybe enough to retire on." He smirked, and took another gulp of coffee.

"Jerk," she said affectionately. "What's Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said, finger-quoting. "It's a school in Scotland where they teach magic. There are several around the world, mostly separated by language, there's one in France, another in Germany, one in Mexico City and so forth. We do have one in the States; it's The Salem Institute of Witchcraft in Boston." A bite of donut was chased by coffee. "Mattie will be starting her third of seven years there on September first. She'll graduate with what is basically a high school diploma; they fudge the records somehow so she can go on to muggle or magical university."

"Muggle?" she asked, taking a gulp of her own coffee.

"Non-magic user," Dick said, waving his finger between them; taking a slurp of coffee. "I'm not related by blood to Bruce and Mattie, Bruce adopted me. I'm a circus kid," he added with a touch of pride.

"If I can ask, what really happened?" she asked. "I find it difficult to believe the 'golf shed' story."

"You and I were on stakeout that night," he said, staring into his coffee. "Oracle told me later he got snookered, following a false trail for a weapons shipment. Bioweapons," he added bleakly. "He couldn't ignore that. Some of Marone's people decided to claim the bounty on the Bat's head, seventy-five mil, so they laid a trap, along with suitable bait: a homeless mother and her son. He went in to rescue them, and bang, steel door, I-beam blocking it, and burning down the building to make sure." He took another gulp of coffee. "It worked, almost. Bruce and the mother died, but the son survived. We have an eyewitness." He looked at her, his eyes blank and pitiless.

She shivered, than said, "I want to help."

He blinked, his eyes returning to their usual playfulness. "You and lots of others. We didn't even have to call in markers. Supes will be donning the Suit, we're planning a full-court press on Marone. We'll make an announcement, the easiest way out for his people will be to knock on the FBI's door with lots of evidence. After the window closes," he took a final gulp of coffee, "We go hunting."

------------------------


	2. Gotham City, Third Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.

------------------------  
2 – Gotham City, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, August 20, 2000:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor: 07:26  
_**------------------------

Mattie knocked on the door, "Tomas? Are you up?"

"Si, you may enter," he called, asking her as she opened the door, "What am I to do with all this space?"

"You may fill it with your things, Tomas," she smiled gently. "Instead of church today, we were going to say goodbye to your Mama. Did she ever say what she wanted done? Did you have family in Puerto Rico?"

"Mama had one brother, but he drank far too much, and beat his wife. He would not treat Mama respectfully." He broke into tears, "Why? Why did the Bat-Man live when Mama died? He was supposed to save her! Why did he fail?"

"Tomas? Tomas, listen to me," Mattie said, pulling him into a hug. "Tomas, your Mama was alive when Batman got both of you to the hospital. They worked very hard, but they could not save her. Batman and the hospital did everything they could, but your Mama had a weak heart. Your Mama knew she might die, but she did her very best to save you when she gave you the breathing device. She must have loved you very much."

"Si..." he whispered.

"So we must honor her memory, Tomas, by helping you do the very best that you can. She can look down from Heaven and be even prouder of you." Mattie sat next to him on the bed, and held him, "Tomas, you must now make some very difficult decisions. I can help you, but they must be your decisions." He nodded, "What do you wish done with Mama? We can send her back to Puerto..."

"NO!" he shouted. "We came to America to start a new life, and she will be here in America with me!" He tore away from her, starting to pace. "I will go to school with you, my sister," he fumed, "I will be the best wizard the world has ever seen, and when it is time," he turned to face her, "I will have my revenge for Mama's death."

"You need training, then," Selina said from the doorway. She took a few steps into the bedroom, knelt and hugged him. "We will teach you what you need to know, and what you wish to know. It is a difficult and dangerous road, Tomas, and is not a decision to be taken in the heat of the moment. For now, we must decide what to do with Mama."

"I will not change my mind, however, may we place her nearby, where I can talk to her?"

Mattie glanced at her mother, "We can place her next to my father, Tomas. She will be only a few steps away. Would that be all right?"

"Gracias, that would indeed be all right."

------------------------  
**_Monday, August 21, 2000:  
Gotham City, WGHO studios: 06:01:20  
_**------------------------

"It's six a.m., and it's a beautiful Monday morning to all of you from Gotham's oldies station, WGHO. I'm Shawna Foxx, getting you up out of your cozy den, and heading into work! So get your paw off that snooze button and pour yourself a cup of your favorite wake-up beverage! I'll be here with you till ten, but now we've got Alex with the early morning traffic report." Heather MacDonald potted down the mike, picking up the in-house line, "MacDonald."

"Good morning, Heather, this is Batgirl," the voice said, and the DJ froze. "You've only got another few seconds on the Fleishmann's spot," the voice prompted. Heather shook herself, punching the cart for the Knights' spot and returning to the phone. "Sorry if I rattled you, Heather. Take a sip of coffee, then record this line and put me on the air."

"How do I know this is Batgirl?" Heather asked.

"Aside from coming on an internal line with no caller ID? I gave you an autographed 'wing with a bent tip. It was bent from jamming a gun action when the Dragons jumped you and Ms. Lane a few years ago. It's the only autographed 'wing around, because you've checked eBay for it. You're also a freckle-faced, petite strawberry blonde. Want your social security number? You've got dead air. Do something with it."

Heather potted up her mike, hitting the record switches for that line. "Good morning, Gotham, have I got a treat for you! I have Batgirl on the line, and I'm recording this at her request. Just in case you're wondering, she is the real McCoy. Open mike, Batgirl, and the phones are lighting up. Oy, are they lighting up!"

"I'm sure they are, Shawna," the throaty voice said with a chuckle. "May I say I love your show, and Fleishmann's salmon is to die for. However, I'm not calling to give free advertising, but to pass on a message to Boss Marone. I know he's listening to you also, and I'd like to state that Shawna and WGHO are not affiliated in any way with the Clan. We'll be... unhappy if anything were to happen to them. We're tired of Boss Marone, and we're passing on a message to his troops. They have until midnight Wednesday to turn themselves in, with evidence, to FBI agents on Gordon Plaza, or they'll be in Gotham General's trauma ward, and the Feds will be visiting _them_. This applies to Marone's _capos_, and his _consigliore_, Benni the Fishwife, all the way down to his pimps. Everyone but his working girls and Marone himself. By the way, Marone, I applaud your promoting a woman as _consigliore,_ but we don't consider Benni a working girl."

"So what about Boss Marone?" Shawna asked.

"He's advised to turn himself in to the FBI, the Secret Service, or the IRS," Batgirl said. "His choice. I would advise against the police, as Police Commissioner Tombleson is speaking with the FBI, although not by his choice. He's explaining some irregularities in his finances. I have time for a couple calls."

"Line one, you're on with Batgirl," Shawna said, the caller asking, "Where's Batman, and will you marry me?"

The throaty chuckle again, "Batman's around, if you haven't seen him, that's a good thing. I'm sorry, but I'm spoken for. Next caller?"

"Er, so, the deal is, we talk ta youse guys or da feds, right?"

"You talk to the feds either way. First way is under your own power, or second, after the doc and when you're in traction." There was the hum of the line disconnecting, and Batgirl said, "Once again, midnight Wednesday is the deadline, then its hunting season with no bag limit." The throaty chuckle again, "Shawna, thanks for having me, and have a nice day, Gotham!"

------------------------

"This is WAR!" Boss Marone screamed. "What did we do? Who set off the Bat?"

"They're winning it," Benni said. The tall blonde brushed her hair back, adjusting her $2000 Italian suit. "They've dropped information into the Secret Service, the FBI, Treasury, hell, even the damned CIA! Our accounts are being closed left and right by the Swiss, the Arabs in Dubai, even our Central American accounts in Belize are gone!"

"Gone?"

"Gone like some of our 'loyal' capos," she said, motioning at the empty chairs at the oak conference table. She glanced at the wall clock above the crime boss, '_I wonder what they've got on me?_' she wondered. '_What can I tell them? I hope I can survive Alderson prison. I've got the true set of books, and a few hours, that should help. Maybe I can get witness protection._' She mused, "As far as what set them off, your guess is as good as mine. You heard what Batgirl said this morning, just like I did. We know their intelligence has always been excellent, this time they're pulling out all the stops, and there's no escape. Hell Month is early."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, August 23, 2000:  
Gotham City, Three Corners: 00:00:01  
_**------------------------

The last echo of St. Michaels' bells rang over the island, with people holding their breath. Giuseppe Aldone looked around nervously, shotgun cradled in his sweaty hands. A voice said softly, "You heard the bells. Hunting season's open." He screamed, and started firing blindly, his girls screaming and taking cover. He never saw the blow that took him out. Only one girl saw a flash of cape, a soft voice asking "Everyone OK?" She nodded nervously, Giuseppe vanishing into the shadows.

Mattie finished binding the pimp to the streetlamp and moved on.

------------------------

Mattie looked down on the nervous druggie cradling a Thompson. A thrown dart jammed the gun's action, as he looked around. She asked, "Didn't you hear the bells?" He screamed, trying to fire, while Mattie chopped his beefy neck, dropping him. She gave the action a quick blasting hex while tying him to an iron fence, then vanished into the night.

------------------------

"How ya doing, little sis?" Dick asked.

Mattie replied, "Fourteen pimps, half a dozen druggies. Only injury so far has been a working girl with a dirty PPK, it jammed on her. How's the feds doing?"

"They had to pull in agents from all over, but they're making out like a politician with a Swiss account," Babs said. "Benni the Fishwife came in a couple hours ago just loaded down with files. She's trying for witness protection," adding, "I wanna go play, you guys are having all the fun!"

"Wait until Amy Rohrback and Harry get there with Lois," Selina said. "Then you can work the South side with Mattie," Selina said.

"Does that mean I can do more druggies?" Mattie asked, adding, "Oops, gotta rescue tourists."

------------------------

Henry Stimson was worried, there was a tension in the air that he didn't like. He nervously looked around, wishing for his old service pistol that Marge had wanted to get rid of. He jumped when a soft voice asked, "Didn't you hear the church bells? This is no place for tourists."

"What? Who said that?" Marge asked.

"I'm the Pimpernel, a member of the Clan," the voice said. "What hotel are you staying at?"

"The... the Radisson at 15th and..." Henry said.

"I know it," a young woman said, materializing out of the darkness. She clasped both their waists, flying up with them above the city. "We're taking down Boss Marone's gang tonight," she said conversationally. They landed, she added, "Here we are, go to your room and watch TV. Local news is cable channel 23, and welcome to Gotham City," ignoring the two bellhops with shotguns, she flew off.

"Who was that?" one of the bellhops asked.

"You don't know?" Henry asked. "She called herself the Pimpernel, said that she belonged to a Clan."

"Dude," the other bellhop said, "You just got rescued by a Bat, and the Clan is taking down the local Mob boss tonight. They had until midnight to surrender to the feds, man."

"Not only that, but it was a _new_ Bat!" the first enthused. "It's like, totally rare to see _any_ of them!"

"It was a _girl_ Bat, too! Cool!"

"What about the police?" Marge asked, the two bellhops just laughed. "Ma'am, this is Gotham. The home of the Bats, and the Big Bat himself."

------------------------

The producer counted down, and the overnight anchor said, "Welcome to WGTV channel 23, all Gotham, all the time. The big news story remains the Clan's declared war against Boss Marone's criminal empire, with _consigliore_ Benni the Fishwife turning herself in just before the deadline. In addition to the Fishwife's arrest, the city has been holding its collective breath since the phone call by Batgirl to WGHO morning DJ Shawna Foxx."

"It was just shocking," Shawna said on tape, "I've run into Batgirl several years before, and she remembered it! I was floored, and then she wanted me to go live. Well, that's what a morning show is for, so I hit record and told her she had an open mike."

"And what an open mike it was," the anchor said. "The Clan is disdaining local police channels, so we have to rely on eyewitness accounts. We have reports of all the Clan in action, for more now, we go to local police reporter Jason Tucker. Jason?"

"Thank you, Brenda. The Clan is still doing the dangerous work, putting boots on the ground against Boss Marone. The only reported usage of the GCPD is escorting the occasional paramedic, and transporting the FBI Special Agents returning to Gordon Plaza with their arrests, a very public slap in the face to Acting Commissioner Giomotto."

"We do have reports of a new member of the Clan, who calls herself the 'Pimpernel'." Jason cleared his throat, "The best description we have is a young Caucasian woman with black hair, about twenty, who rescued a pair of elderly tourists in the Three Corners area tonight."

"Elderly? Henry said. "Are we elderly now?"

"... wearing the usual black cape, bodysuit and toolbelt. Also in the news is the arrest of new Police Commissioner Tombleson on fraud charges."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, August 24, 2000:  
Gotham City, WGHO studios: 06:00:15  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Gotham! It's six a.m. on a beautiful Thursday morning. I'm Shawna Foxx from Gotham's oldies station, WGHO. Up, up out of your cozy den, and pour yourself a cup of your favorite wake-up beverage! I'll be here with you till ten, but now we've got Alex with the early morning traffic report." Heather MacDonald potted down the mike, giving a wary eye to the in-house phone line.

"That's the line the call came in on?" Senior Special Agent McCarthy of the FBI asked, sipping coffee.

"Yeah, we've got forty-five seconds left. You ready?"

"Let's rock and roll."

"On an oldies station?" she grinned. He chuckled as she settled herself, counting down; sliding the pots up, "Welcome back, Gotham! As you know, last night the Clan decided they'd had enough of the Marone gang. We don't know what set them off, but the results were certainly impressive. For info on just how impressive, I have the FBI's own Agent McCarthy from the Gotham office." She ran a pot up, nodding at the Fed. "Agent McCarthy, what was your take from 'hunting season'?"

"I would not want to be on their bad side," he said. "This is the most devastating blow against the Mob since the elimination of the Five Families in New York. I would like to clarify that the Clan took out targets of opportunity as well, we had members of the various Tongs, street gangs, street level druggies, and a couple Triad members dropped into our laps. The only ones they bypassed were the working girls and the independent brothels and their madams."

"So how exactly did it all work?" Shawna asked.

"We'd get a call on one of our internal lines," she grinned at him, "the caller would announce themselves as someone called 'Oracle', giving a location, and type of arrest. We'd go there, process the scene, and by the time we'd finished, the Gotham Police would be there with a paddy wagon." He shook his head, "They warned us to have the manpower, but we didn't really believe them. We should have. Aside from the walk-in arrests, we had a total of 254 members of the Marone gang, a couple of dozen others, and even a couple of muggers who were dumb enough to try it last night."

"Were there any injuries or deaths?" Shawna asked.

"Amazingly, there was nothing worse than a grazing wound, although one of the mugger's victims went into labor. That's probably why they decided to try their luck. I understand mother and kid are fine, although I can't say as much for the mugger's sense of timing."

"True," Shawna said with a chuckle. She paled, "We've got a call coming in, just like Monday." She flipped switches, "This is Shawna Foxx, and you're live on WGHO."

A male voice with a slight British accent said, "Oracle here. You're welcome, mate." The line disconnected, Shawna looking at the Fed, who said, "That's Oracle."

------------------------

"Having fun, Harry?" Selina asked from the other workstation. He chuckled, she reminded him, "A week left before school starts. Want to go with Mattie and Tomas?"

"No thanks, I'll apparate back, unless you've got a floo connection?"

"Nope, not secure enough." She leveled a gaze at him, "I hope I _won't_ see you this year at school. You'll keep an eye out for Mattie and Tomas?"

"Of course," he stood and nodded, "Thank you for the hospitality, Mrs. Wayne."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, August 26, 2000:  
Grandview Heights, Ohio, Morton home: 01:21 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

Crickets chirped as Mattie alighted, knocking on the door. She smiled as Arthur opened the door, "Sorry I'm a bit early. Is Julia ready?"

"As ready as anyone can be at one a.m. C'mon in, mom wanted a word, anyway."

"Uh, oh," she grinned. "My goose is cooked!"

"Silly snake," he jibed. "Mom, Mattie's here!"

"Come in, come in, you'll catch your death standing out there!" Momma Morton said, "Arthur, go get your sister moving!" She took Mattie by the arm, sitting down with her in the cozy kitchen. "So tell me what you're going to do with my Julia."

"First, I have a new adoptive brother, Tomas," she told Momma, accepting the glass of ice water. "His mother died in a fire, and he had a Hogwarts letter." Momma tisked, "Tomas will be in the same year as Julia, so I'll be watching out for both of them, along with my friends. Since we're running late in getting Tomas outfitted for school, we can take Julia too, the old two birds thing."

"I see. How do you plan to get there? It's several hours to fly."

"It's five time zones, yes, which means it's a little before six thirty there, so if we want to get there when the shops open at seven, I show up here at one. Sorry. However, I have a secret," Mattie looked around, ignoring Elena lurking in the hall.

"She has a Ring," Elena said, entering. "Mattie, I know Arthur asked me not to, but I've gotta..." she let out a little shriek.

"Ring?" Momma Morton asked.

"Green Lantern ring," Elena explained.

Momma Morton's eyes widened. She felt blindsided by this news. "Arthur Donald Morton!" she bellowed, nearly waking the rest of the house.

'_Oh crap, she used my whole name_', Arthur thought as he barreled down the stairs in response. "Yes?" he asked with false calm.

"How long have you known that Mattie was a Green Lantern?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't."

"Arthur," she said dangerously.

"Won't," he said, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Arthur, it's all right," Mattie said, "I thought you knew," she told Mrs. Morton.

"No it isn't," he replied before turning toward his mother. "Mom, I've learned a lot of secrets the last two years, including stuff like that ring. And I keep my mouth shut because everybody; you, me, Julia, Elena, even Mattie is safer that way. If Mattie wants to tell you, that's her business. But I'm not going to do it for her and I'm not going to do it to anyone else. You'll just have to trust me."

She regarded him thoughtfully, Momma Morton finally asking, "How long have you been saving that speech?"

"About a year now."

Elena smacked her brother. "That was a rhetorical question, or couldn't you tell?"

"Sorry, my rhetoric meter is broken."

Turning, Elena asked, "You know the weird thing Mattie?" With a jab of her thumb, she said, "He was like this before he went to Hogwarts." Arthur glared, and she stuck out her tongue.

"Feel better?" Mattie asked, Elena nodding. "Your price for that little scream was your keeping your mouth closed about this little toy. I don't want to hear about you bragging to your girlfriends at school, now, no gossip. You have your Two-Face picture for that. Deal?"

"I agree," Momma Morton said. "Elena, you will not speak of this to your girlfriends, something that you _obviously_ knew about before." She glowered at her daughter, who nodded.

"You've got a deal." She joined her mother, "Mom, that ring makes Mattie one of the three or four most powerful people on Earth. If she's going to look after Julia, along with Arthur and little Bill next year, well... think of Julia being in the same school as Supergirl."

"Am I to be reassured by this?" Momma asked. "I've noticed the more powerful a hero is, the more powerful his enemies are. Superman doesn't fight muggers."

"Actually, he does, and at best, I'm a back up Green Lantern," Mattie said. "Mostly, I'm a witch in training, just like Julie."

"Hopefully Julia'll do better in Transfig than Mattie," Arthur said, Mattie wincing as Julia entered. "She's been practicing for the last few weeks." He shook Mattie's shoulder gently, "We can't have you getting a swelled head, now."

"With you around? Never."

------------------------

Mattie and Julia alighted on a patio, Mattie quickly flipping up a cobblestone and entering a code. She mentioned, "Disabling the alarm," as she closed the first, opening another false stone to press her hand against a pad. With a quiet 'snick', the locks on the French doors released. With a grin, Mattie held the door, "Welcome to my humble home."

------------------------

"Hello, Julia," Selina said. "I'd like you to meet Tomas."

"Hello, Tomas," Julia said, "I was sorry to hear about your mama. Please accept my sympathies."

"Gracias, I know my Mama is watching over me from Heaven, along with Senor Wayne." He brooded a bit, "You are also starting at the magic school in England?"

"Yes, and we don't have much time. Are you ready?"

"One moment, please," he left, and Selina said, wiping her hands and leaning against the kitchen sink, "Julia, one thing before you go. Arthur kicked up a fuss about money. I've talked it over with your parents, we'll pay for your supplies, and they'll reimburse us. I don't want to hear you came up short on something necessary, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"If only my own daughter were that polite," Selina said with a grin, Mattie yelping, "Hey!"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, August 26, 2000:  
London, Charing Cross: 06:38 (GMT)  
_**------------------------

"Dios!" Tomas said, crossing himself as they landed in the alley.

"I told you this was a secret," she said, he nodded, "Such a secret, though."

"A little secret, Tomas," she smiled, "Are you both ready to meet people? I will be there, and none will hurt you. Come, take my hands, we go this way."

------------------------

Mattie stopped, "This is the Leaky Cauldron pub, a magic pub. A friend of mine Albus Dumbledore works here. We go through here to get to the magic shops. Come, the door sticks a bit."

Tomas held back, "I am not of age."

"None of us are," Julia said. "We're not drinking, though I'm hungry."

"Why are you two hungry, I've been doing all the work!" Mattie kidded. "Would you like breakfast?" Tomas nodded, and he pulled on the door.

------------------------

"Good morning, Mr. Dumbledore," Mattie said, "I'd like to introduce Tomas Ramirez, and you remember Julia Morton, Arthur's sister. They'll be starting at Hogwarts this year."

"Hello, Miss Morton, and Mr. Ramirez," Albus said, flipping the towel over his shoulder and gravely shaking his hand. "My deepest sympathies on the death of your mother."

He took a shuddering breath, "Thank you, senor. It is difficult, but I am adjusting, with the help of God and my new family."

"Family is very important," Albus said. "Would the three of you like breakfast? The Alley won't open for another fifteen minutes or so."

Mattie replied, "Thank you, sir, whatever you have available. Tomas, Julia, would you like coffee, milk, orange juice?"

"Coffee, por favor. I think this will be a long day," and Julia nodded.

------------------------

The Cauldron gradually filled up with witches and wizards, having breakfast or a morning cuppa to start the day. Mattie waved as Charlie Adams came in; he joined them, pouring a cup of tea and offering "G'day. Mattie, my sympathies on the death of your pa."

"I'm not the only one," she replied, "Tomas lost his mother on the same night."

"That's rough, mate," he said, "My sympathies to you, too." He took a sip, "Starting Hogwarts?"

"Si, the bird came with the magic letter, and the Waynes were kind enough to help. I do not know quite what to make of it."

"Between us, we'll get you two kitted out," Charlie grinned. The clock chimed the hour, and he finished his tea as Mattie fished out coins.

------------------------

"First things first," Mattie said as they waited to enter the Alley, "We need to get school uniforms and robes fitted. Then, while that's being done, we can shop for Tomas' wand. Julia, you have your wand?"

"I do," she said, pulling it out of her back pocket. Mattie tisked, "We need to get both of you a wand sheath. I know it's not on the official list, but they're very useful. Charlie, you have yours?"

"I do, and if you're like your brother, you're already counting the coins," he told Julia. "Take our advice and accept it. I just wish I could get Arthur to wear a watch, the silly git."

"Never happen," Julia said with a giggle. "He hates the things, but I can see where a wand sheath would be useful. I tried one of his spring-loaded gizmos, but I can't make it work."

------------------------

"Hello, Ms. Patil," Mattie said politely to the Indian witch. "I apologize, I know its short notice, but we need two sets of Hogwarts uniforms and robes for firsties."

"Certainly, Miss Wayne, but there will be a rush charge," Mattie nodded, Parvati adding, "Your uniforms and robes are altered, along with your Quidditch robes. Would you like to try them on?"

Mattie mounted a stand, "Could you check my measurements first, please?"

Parvati shrugged and released her measure, which crawled over Mattie to Julia and Tomas' shock. "Same measurements, your uniforms are in room three. Who's next?" Charlie snickered, sipping tea.

------------------------

Tomas and Julia watched in amazement as Mattie casually shrunk the bulky package of robes, stowing it in her shoulder bag.

"Mattie, thanks for that little warning about the tape measure, it would have freaked me out, and for _some_ reason, Arthur didn't say anything. What's next?" Julia asked.

"Books? I could spend all day in the bookstore," Mattie admitted. "Let's get your trunks ordered next door; Tomas and I have business at Gringotts." She looked at her brother, "Goblins don't look like us, but we're kin to them, Tomas. They're family, and if you need help, you can ask them." Charlie whistled in surprise, "Mate, you've got some powerful help there."

"I shall need it, to avenge Mama's death," he said, and Julia glanced at him.

------------------------

"Miss Wayne! Please, come in, is this Mr. Ramirez?"

"Mr. Griplink, how good to see you again!" Mattie hugged the goblin, "This is indeed Tomas. Tomas, this is Mr. Griplink of Gringotts Bank."

"An honor to meet you, Senor Griplink," Tomas said gravely, bowing and giving a firm, two-handed shake. "I understand our families are linked, this pleases me, Senor. I hope to add to our relationship."

"I am _most_ happy to make the acquaintance of you, Senor Ramirez. If there is anything I or Gringotts can do, you have only to speak of it," Griplink said, delighted. "I hate to trouble you, but we do have a bit of business to enact. Please come this way." He led Tomas off, Mattie, Julia and Charlie following behind, Mattie grumbling, "Patriarchal society."

------------------------

"I am sorry, my sister," Tomas said as they sat on Florean's patio, eating ice cream. "It was like a scene I saw on the television, I thought it might be useful. Senor Griplink did not mind, and it did turn out to be so." He delicately ate his single-scoop vanilla cone, fastidiously cleaning his hands, then rinsing them off in the fountain. "What is next?"

"Ollivander's, mate. You need a wand."

------------------------

"Thank you, Mattie," Julia said, adjusting her wand sheath. "I was afraid I was going to break mine if I sat down wrong in class."

"The uniform skirts don't have pockets, though," Mattie said. "The _guys_ can get away with sticking their wands in their pockets, but _we_ can't!" The girls glared at the guys, Charlie asking, "What'd we do?" Tomas shrugged.

------------------------

"Mattie!" Blaise cried, coming over to give a hug. "I'm so sorry to hear about your father," she said.

"Thank you. I saw you signed for Draco and the Baron," she said. "I'd like you to meet my new brother, Tomas Ramirez. His mama died on the same night, and he agreed to join us. Tomas, this is Blaise Zabini, a fellow Slytherin, oh, and this tall fellow is the head of Slytherin House, Professor Snape."

The professor nodded his head, "Mr. Ramirez, my sympathies on your loss. Please contact me if I can assist you. Good luck at Hogwarts."

Mattie moved away, "Professor, I was hoping to see you. I received your research request, and I've got something for you." She dug about in her bag, extracting a silver spiral with a green, glowing crystal in the center. "This should help, professor. It's an Oan memory crystal; it goes back a little ways. When I get to school, I'll help you connect it to your machine."

"Thank you, Miss Wayne. How far back does it go?"

She smiled slightly, "250 million years."

------------------------

"I have a question," Tomas said, putting down his heavy potions case. "Do I have to carry this to class every day?"

"No, only Tuesday and Thursday afternoons," Mattie said, drawing her black wand. "I'm going to teach you and Julia two spells, but you can't use them until you get to school." Julia set her case next to Tomas', and nodded. "The first is the featherweight charm, _tollenosis_." She applied it to Julia's case, then said, "Lift them and compare."

"There are some potion ingredients that don't react well to external charms and such," Charlie said. "Professor Snape will generally store them separately, but keep it in mind." They nodded, "Your wand is fitted to your magic," he added. "If I use Mattie's wand for the same charm, it won't work as well. Some wands are blood-fitted to an individual user; those can only be used by that particular witch or wizard." He borrowed Mattie's wand, casting _tollenosis_ on Tomas' case. They compared; Mattie recasting the charm.

"The second is the shrinking spell, _minimus_, and the enlarging spell, _engorgio_," Mattie said, shrinking both cases and tucking them in her bag.

"I have two questions," Julia said. "First, why do you have two wands, Mattie?"

"The tan one is my official, registered US government one," she replied. "The black one is my perfectly matched, expensive, 'unregistered that the government doesn't know about so I can do magic' wand." She grinned, "Second question?"

Julia looked around, "Does Professor Snape ever wash his hair?"

------------------------

Mattie glanced at her watch, "Time's flying, guys. What do we have left?"

"Textbooks, pick up trunks and robes," Charlie counted off his fingers, grinning, "We've got time for the Wheeze, mates!"

Tomas hung back, "What is the 'Wheeze'?"

"The best wizarding joke shop in Europe, mate!"

------------------------

"Mattie! How's our favorite investor?" Fred called. Harry looked over, "I thought I was your favorite."

"Na, you're the first, mate," George replied. He told Mattie, "Sorry about your pa, Mattie."

"You two actually signed the register with your real names," she replied. "I was shocked! Thank you, guys, I'd like to introduce my new brother, Tomas Ramirez, who lost his mama that same night. Tomas, this redheaded idiot is George Weasley, his twin brother over there is Fred. A word of advice, Tomas, never eat or drink anything here."

"Aw, Mattie, you're spoiling all the fun," Fred complained. "Tomas, our sympathies on the loss of your mum."

"Gracias, senor Weasley. Why do I not want to eat anything here?"

"Because this might happen," Fred said, popping a hard-boiled egg into his mouth. There was a pop, and a six foot rooster was stalking about the store.

"Chicken cackles," George said. "They're brand new. Don't let him out of the store!" he called. "Girls will turn into hens, and if it's that time of the month, will lay an egg. You know what you're doing, but you still think you're a chicken." Fred clucked, pecking at the floor, and George added, "Corn reverses it," throwing some down. Another pop, and Fred was sitting cross-legged on the floor."

"What happens to the egg?" Julia asked.

"Turns into smoke," Fred replied, climbing to his feet. Tomas' face was twitching, and then he laughed, Fred and George joining him.

"We pay commissions on jokes," George added, passing Tomas a flyer. "That one came from a housemate of Mattie's in Slytherin, and no, won't say who."

"Might almost be worth it to be a chicken for four days," Julia mused, Mattie nodding.

------------------------

"Julia, did Arthur get his third-year books?"

"Dunno. It's three here, so it would be... ten at home?"

Mattie nodded, "Let's call and check, Ok?"

------------------------

The phone rang, Elena picking it up, "Elena Morton."

"Hi, it's Mattie. Julia's here, did Arthur get his third-year books?"

"Dunno. Let me give you to Mom, and I'll go ask." She handed the phone over, "Julia's calling from London. Did Arthur get his books?"

"Julia?" Mattie handed the phone over, sitting on a bench a few feet away.

"Honey, how are you doing? Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, mom. Tomas is a real latin gentleman, and we met one of Mattie's classmates, Charlie, who's been shopping with us. We've just got a bit more to do, can I get a broom?"

"I will think about it. Here is your brother." Arthur took the phone, "Julia, could you pick up my third year books and potions?"

"Blaise said you hadn't ordered them already, so we got the potions stuff. Does Professor Snape ever wash his hair? Mattie wouldn't say."

"She wouldn't, he's her head of house, she's very loyal. Don't call him a 'greasy git' in her hearing. Just the books, please, Mom's got my robes done. What's mom going to think about?"

"A broom," Julia sighed. "I wanna fly like Mattie did at Christmas."

"Mattie's broom is a couple thousand dollars. She can afford it, we can't. Try out for the Quidditch team in your house. See if you can find one for a couple hundred dollars, that's about 25 galleons."

Julia sighed, "Darn it."

Arthur chuckled softly, "At least we're not being charged interest. Just the books, please." She sighed again and handed the phone back to Mattie.

"No broom?" Julia shook her head. "No broom, just books."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, August 26, 2000:  
Grandview Heights, Ohio, Morton home: 13:29 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

They landed softly, invisibly in the back yard behind the grey and red van, and Mattie motioned for silence as she became visible, looking about. She waved Julie over, passing her wand as the girl snuck up on Arthur, dozing in the hammock. Teela waved and got her camera ready. '_Aqueous Frigidus_' she called, using Mattie's wand, and he woke suddenly as icy water splashed over him, his left leg twisting in the hammock as he fell out. "That was for not telling me about the measuring tape," she informed her brother loftily as she tossed Mattie's black wand back. "I've got your books and potions stuff," Julia told Arthur, joining Teela at the picnic table as Mattie and Tomas sat down. "Teela, this is Tomas Ramirez, she's one of my three sisters."

"Hello, Teela," Tomas said, standing and giving a small bow. She sighed, winking at Mattie, "Hello, Senor Ramirez, you're going to be fighting them off with a stick."

"Oh, yeah," Mattie agreed. "I'm going to teach him stick fighting, he'll need it." Tomas simply smiled, and the two Morton girls sighed.

Arthur finished wringing out his shirt, Mattie conjuring a beach towel for him; flicking a drying charm at his book, which had been splashed. He squelched over, offering his hand, "Arthur Morton, Tomas." He glanced at his sister, "Okay, we're even for the tape measure."

"Now that that's settled," Mattie said, dropping her bag on the table, "Let's start unloading. It may be shrunken, but it still has weight."

------------------------

"Here, Julia, let me help you get your trunk upstairs," Mattie said, dropping her considerably lighter bag on top. The screen door banged, and Julia called, "We're back, Mom!"

"How long have you been back?" she asked, hands dusted with flour.

"About half an hour, I can't leave Tomas alone too long, he's likely to charm Teela off to Gotham," Mattie said with a grin. "Mrs. Morton, may I have a word?"

"I'll just (grunt) drag my new, heavy trunk (grunt) upstairs all by myself," Julia mock-complained. Momma said to Mattie, waving her floured hands, "Go, I'll meet you upstairs in a minute or two."

"It has a featherweight charm on it," Mattie said, picking up the other end again. "Wimp."

------------------------

"You guys need a bigger house," Mattie said, "Four girls in one room? How do you do it?"

"Communal closet, and just one drawer in the dresser each," Julia said, dropping her trunk at the end of her bunk bed. She opened it, starting to rearrange things. Little Bill peeked in, muttered, "One more year!" and went downstairs. "I don't know why the trunks don't come with wheels," Julia mused.

Mrs. Morton appeared, closing the door after her. "Now then, what did you want to talk about?" she asked, sitting on a bed.

"Julia's stuff," Mattie said, sitting on another bed and hugging a stuffed bear. "We went a bit over budget, but only for necessities."

"How much over?" Momma asked.

"Twenty-two galleons, which works out to about $160," Julia said, cringing slightly. "One thing was for a wand sheath; because the school's uniform skirts don't have pockets."

"Let's see! Put your uniform on," Momma said, and Julia chewed her lip, looking at Mattie.

"No worse than gym class," Mattie teased, jumping off the bed, "Actually, I did have something private to ask you, Mrs. Morton."

"You can ask while Julia changes," motioning for Mattie to follow her, and closing the door to the master bedroom, "Now then."

"Two things," Mattie said. "The lower years like we are don't have the chance to go into Hogsmeade to shop, so she'll have to take enough toiletries to last about four months, until Christmas break, when she can restock. There's a communal medicine cabinet in each dorm that has things like headache potions, but doesn't include things like, um, tampons or toothpaste."

Mrs. Morton considered this. "We needed to grocery-shop in any case. I'll discuss this with Julia. What else?"

"Just this," Mattie said, digging in her bag. She extracted a wrapped package. "I did a little early Christmas shopping, so this is from me to the Morton family." She expanded it, adding, "It's got a featherweight charm on it, otherwise it weighs about fifty pounds. Stash it with your other Christmas presents, and I'll go see how Julia's doing."

------------------------

"Not bad," Mattie said from the doorway. "I need to fix your tie, so have a seat. Did you get thigh-highs or tights?"

"Thigh-highs," Julia said, "Tights get so hot!"

"Yeah, but Scotland is at a higher latitude, and you've got a cold wind coming off the loch," Mattie said, tugging at Julia's sweater. "Put your robes on," she said; continuing, "The greenhouses are outside, so you're going to be freezing your butt off in a skirt, especially in November and December. The potions classroom is in a dungeon, so that's always chilly. Guys don't have to worry about it as much as we do. If your budget can stand it, get some knee boots with a low heel for when you're outside in winter, along with five or six pairs of white insulated tights. You can do cleaning and repair charms on them, believe me, you don't want to squish around all day wearing wet mary-janes and stockings."

"You look adorable!" Momma Morton said, "I need to get some pictures!"

------------------------

Mrs. Morton sighed happily; her Julia just looked so _precious_. She sat, and had to admit that the wand sheath was a good idea, as were the bookbag and the expanding trunk.

"One last question," Mattie asked. "I haven't heard if we fly over on Wednesday the 30th, and have a day for rest and any last-minute shopping, or Thursday the 31st, and catch the train the next day?"

"Why can't we just fly over like we did today?" Julia asked.

"We need to do it legally, going through Customs and such," Mattie said, and Mrs. Morton nodded. "The last I heard, we were going on the 30th."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, August 26, 2000:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor: 15:13 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

"We're home," Mattie said, landing on the patio with Tomas. She disabled the alarm, then unlocked the doors, flipping the stone closed.

"Are all of the doors like this?"

"Yep," she nodded. "Here's how to find them: See the line of brass inserts in the stones?" Mattie pointed. "Find the second from the right as you're facing the house, a foot away at the 10:00 position there's a circular stone. Press the top, and it rotates up, underneath is a keypad." She showed him, flipping up the aluminum protective cover. "Punch in your code to disable the alarm, 9993 to simulate disabling the alarm, if someone is holding you hostage. That will also unlock the doors, but a silent alarm goes to the police." Tomas nodded as she showed him how to open and close the stone. "The next step in a normal entry is to unlock the doors. That stone is a larger flagstone that's a foot to the left of the first stone, it's always shaped like a keystone, see?" She moved her finger around the perimeter, pressing on the top center to rotate it up. "You press on the little chip for five seconds; then place your hand on the scanner underneath. A weakness of the system is if some woman were to press a spike heel on that point, _after_ the other stone was opened, for that amount of time, but neither Mom or I wear spike heels to parties on the lawn, and the system is disabled for parties."

"Why not wear them?" he asked, "They are very attractive."

"Then _you_ can, oh Latin lover," his sister teased. "Spike heels look good, but they're really uncomfortable, and really easy to twist your ankle in the grass," she motioned to the expansive lawn. "That doesn't mean someone who values fashion over comfort wouldn't, but it's not me." She pressed her hand on the scanner again, "The doors relock after 60 seconds, so let's get inside."

------------------------


	3. Week One, Third Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
3 – Week One, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Wednesday, August 30, 2000:  
Airborne, west of Iceland: 07:51 (GMT-1)  
_**------------------------

The private jet leveled off after refueling, the seatbelt light 'dinging' off. Julie flipped open hers, asking, "All right. I'd like to get the dirt on what we're facing for classes."

The Cortez twins broke off their quiet conversation in Spanish with Tomas, saying, "Why don't we start with the houses? At least you'll have an idea of what each is like."

"Reasonable," Connie Koslowski said. "First of all, Mattie and I are in Slytherin, the twins in Ravenclaw, and Arthur's in Hufflepuff. That means we can bash Gryffindor first!" she grinned.

"A quick overview," Arthur said, "is the Gryffs are the athletes, the white knights, the 'Claws are the mad scientists, the brainy researchers, the Slythies are the manipulators, the politicians, and the Huffies like me are the loyal, hardworking types. We're also the catch-all house, if the Hat doesn't think you fit anywhere else, he'll put you there."

"Call the Hat by his name, Alastair, he'll be pleased," Mattie said. "If you really want a house, he'll put you there, but not just because a friend or relative is there," she warned. "He has split up siblings before, so Julie or Tomas might wind up in different houses than Arthur or I."

"There's really only two places where that matters," one of the twins said. "Pranks and Quidditch."

"Pranks I can understand, seniorita, the jokes, but what is Quidditch?" Tomas asked.

"Quidditch is the wizarding sport," Connie said, "it's definitely popular, each house fields a team. Professor Harry will explain it better, but think of midair basketball for now."

"One reason there's intense competition is the points your team scores count toward the House Cup, which gives your house bragging rights," the other twin said."

"That's all well and good for the sports nuts here," Arthur commented. "For the rest of us, there's a gym Hufflepuff refurbished, with a weight set and basketball hoops, and Miss Wayne over there teaches martial arts on Sunday afternoons."

"The instructors will award and dock points in class, too," the other twin said. "We get a lot of points for always knowing the answers."

"Speaking of classes, what are the instructors like?" Julie asked.

"McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor and the Transfiguration professor, she took over for Dumbledore as Headmistress when he retired," Arthur said. "She was known as strict but fair, a Scottish nationalist, and a Quidditch fanatic. However, the new Transfig professor is Cho Chang, all any of us know about her is that she was a Ravenclaw, a seeker on their Quidditch team, and is only five or six years older than we are."

"She was known as a rather quiet girl according to the older students in our house," one of the twins said. "A genius with a wand, maybe _she_ can get Mattie's Transfig grades up."

Mattie groaned, "Thank you very much for that vote of confidence," she said. "Another professor is Harry Potter. He's the closest thing the wizarding world has to a superhero, so be prepared for wizards to act like he walks on water."

"I've had my differences with him in the past," Arthur said, and the twins and Mattie snorted, "but he's a fairly young guy, early twenties, very casual, the kind that always has his tie halfway down and his sleeves pushed up."

"He's also an extremely powerful wizard," Connie said. "He never seems to get mad, which is a good thing. He's also the new head of Gryffindor, the Defense instructor, the flying instructor and Quidditch referee. If they keep the same schedule, you'll have him Friday mornings for Defense, and then Friday afternoons for flying lessons."

Mattie clarified, "He teaches regular classes in magical defense, I teach whoever shows up in the Martial Arts." Tomas nodded.

"Who's next?" Arthur mused. "History is now taught by Professor Lupin instead of Binns," there was a mild cheer, "Binns was the only ghost instructor, and he was deadly dull. People either slept or did homework in his class, and he hadn't changed his syllabus since _before_ he died. One other thing, Lupin's a werewolf, so expect a day or two's absence around the full moon."

"Werewolf?" Tomas said. "They exist?"

Connie nodded, "They do, and they are dangerous without their potion, but otherwise they're just like you and me."

"There's a 'wolf in every house, and as a word of advice, my best mate is one," Mattie said. "Moving on..."

"Moving on, the new Deputy Headmistress is Callista Vector," Connie said. "She's a fellow Slythie, and teaches Arithmancy. That's third year and up, and she's also what the guys would call a babe," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Blonde, blue eyes, young, fit, naa, not attractive at all..." Arthur joked, and Julie swatted his arm. "Help me out, Tomas!" he cried.

"Senor, you are on your own," he said, "Who else?"

"We can't forget Potions," a twin said, "The ever-pleasant Professor Snape."

"Hey!" Connie and Mattie said. "You just don't know him like we do."

"Spare me," Arthur said. "Professor Snape's class is passable if you pay _meticulous_ attention to detail, follow instructions _precisely_, and can survive his assumption that all students are dunderheads until they prove otherwise."

"That goes double if you're sorted into Gryffindor," a twin said. "He will tell you his opinion, and he doesn't give a damn about hurt feelings. The highest I've ever heard him praise someone is Mattie, who said she was 'adequate'."

"There are eight Potion Masters in Great Britain," Mattie said. "There's maybe seventy worldwide. This is the equivalent of being taught by a Nobel Prize winner, so from that perspective, it's understandable. 'Adequate' is to his standards, so it's definitely praise." She shifted in her seat as the jet rocked a bit. "He's also the head of Slytherin. The Heads of House act _in loco parentis_, as your parents away from home, so you can go to them for help and advice, just like your mom or dad." Her eyes flicked to Tomas.

"Professor Flitwick is the Head of Ravenclaw," a twin said. "He's short, about three feet tall, and I think in his eighties or so. He teaches Charms, and he's been trying to help Mattie," she snorted, "Not that it's done much good."

"Hey, what is this, 'Dump on Mattie Day'?" she complained. "Flitwick is like the jolly older uncle, he's never down, always cheerful, on a perpetual sugar high."

Tomas was thinking, "There is one other house," he asked.

"Hufflepuff and Professor Sprout," Connie said. "Professor Sprout teaches Herbology, so she's like the grandma that's always digging in the garden, she can never get _all_ of the dirt off. She's in her sixties or so, and is the kind to give you cookies and fudge when she's chewing you out."

"She bakes those herself," Arthur mentioned. "Mom's new oatmeal cookie recipe came from Professor Sprout," he told his sister.

"Good reason for a gym," a twin said. "Who's left?"

"Ancient Runes," her sister said. "Professor Lara Croft is another Ravenclaw, and next to Professor Harry, one of the most muggle professors. I think she's the only other one that knows how to drive a car. Runes are the old hieroglyphs and things found on old tombs and such, and she's also a babe."

"Mid twenties, a very healthy chest, long brown braided hair, yeah, the guys keep an eye on her," Connie said. "In contrast, there's Hagrid."

"Ah, Hagrid," Mattie mused. "He's a Gryffindor, Magical Creatures professor and Keeper of the Keys. Wonderful fellow, half giant so he's about eight feet tall and covered with hair, but his heart is as big as he is. I'm looking forward to his class."

"You signed up for it?" Arthur said in shock. Mattie shrugged.

"Hagrid's ideas for 'cute and cuddly' are three-headed dogs, harpies, and fire-breathing dragons," a twin said, shaking her head, "I'll bet you're the only Slythie there, that's definitely a Gryff class."

"Hey, I room with a werewolf," she grinned, "Anyone else taking Astronomy?" Mattie asked. "I've got some toys for Professor Sinistra she should enjoy."

"I'll bet," Arthur said, winking at his sister. "Who's left?"

"Trelawney, that great fraud," Mattie said. "She kept her job teaching Divination, but it's no longer mandatory, thank the Source."

"Don't you mean 'The Force'?" Connie asked with a giggle.

"Nope, I'll teach you a few tricks I learned on my summer vacation this weekend," Mattie said. "Anyone left?"

"Carstairs, the Muggle Studies professor," Arthur said. "From what my housemates say, she's a bigot who thinks Voldie didn't go far enough. Thank God I didn't sign up for her class."

Mattie's face paled, "Sprink wanted to take it, so I agreed to also. We're probably going to be the only two Slythies there."

"See if there's any way you can get out of it," a twin said. "Given your relations with Miss Malfoy, they'd go together like mother and daughter." Connie winced.

"Miss Malfoy?" Julie asked.

"See what happens when you don't talk to family, Arthur?" Mattie jibed. "This happened last year. Miss Lucille Malfoy is, or was, Lucius Malfoy before a disguise spell misfired on him, making his gender switch permanent."

Connie took up the story, "She was impersonating me for most of last year, until..."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, August 30, 2000:  
London, Gatwick Airport, Queen's Customs: 09:56 (GMT)  
_**------------------------

Julie waited on line with the others, while the Customs officer talked to Connie. With a wave, she cleared, and the officer waved her forward with a "G'day, lass. Passport please, and what brings you over?"

"School, sir," she said as she offered her passport. "I came over to see during the Holidays, and made up my mind then."

"British schools are the finest in the world," he agreed. "I'm glad to see a Yank on this side of the Pond. Pop your trunk up here, lass, and we'll have a look." With a grunt, Julie levered it up and unlocked it, holding her breath.

"Uniforms, textbooks, I don't see anything strange here," he said, slapping a paper seal on it and stamping her passport. Julie blinked as he said, "Have a lovely stay, m'dear, and welcome to the United Kingdom. Next?" he asked Arthur as Julie scampered past the line, into the UK.

------------------------

'_Professor Croft must be a witch_' Julie mused, watching the guys' reactions. '_She has to use magic somehow, with that figure,_' and had a flash of jealousy. '_I wonder if I'll look like that_' she wondered as Arthur loaded her trunk into the van.

"Right-o," Professor Croft said from behind the wheel. "Next stop, the Cauldron."

"Hello, there," Mr. Dumbledore said. "We're a bit full up with the start of term this weekend, I hope you don't mind sharing a room."

Mattie glanced at the others, "I don't, professor."

"Capital!" he said. "Ladies and gentlemen in separate rooms, of course, dinner is in an hour, so you've time to freshen up."

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 1, 2000:  
London, Kings Cross, platform 9 ¾: 10:45  
_**------------------------

Mattie watched with a grin as Julie ran through the solid brick wall, Tomas following her a minute later. "Wow, that's amazing…" Julie breathed, Arthur smirking.

"Wait till you start classes Monday," Mattie advised. "If they keep the same schedule, that's Herbology, your brother's worst subject."

"Says the witch who's blown her Transfiguration final two years in a row," Arthur snorted.

Mattie sneered, "I managed to scrape out an 'Acceptable' this last year, thank you very much."

"You're welcome, Miss Wayne," Arthur sneered back, when someone called "Remus!" People turned to watch a fellow being hugged by a redheaded witch, with a large black panther sitting next to her, pink tongue lolling over his fangs.

"Mattie! Arthur!" Sprink called, followed by Felicia. Mattie hugged them, asking, "How was Ireland?"

"Cold an' wet, same as Scotland. Didya know Felicia got her first job?"

"No! Tell us about it!"

"It wasn't much, just office help at McKinnon Distillers," Felicia began, when the train whistle blew. Arthur levitated his sister's trunk, saying, "That's the ten minute warning. Felicia, this is my sister Julie, this is her first year."

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Felicia said hesitantly, shaking her hand. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time."

------------------------

"First years?" Arthur asked as he opened the door to a compartment. They nodded, and he levitated Julie's trunk in. He awkwardly hugged his sister, adding, "You saw where the twins went, three doors up and to the left? That's where I'll be if you need me; change into your uniform after the witch goes by with the trolley."

"I'll be fine, Arthur," Julie said. "Thanks for taking care of my trunk. Go on now; catch up with your friends. Shoo!" She waved, and closed the door, grinning and saying, "Older brothers!"

"Older sisters are just as bad with their little brothers," a blond fellow said. "Kent Bundy, my sister's a seventh-year, AND Quidditch captain. Any idea what we have to do for the Sorting? My sister Karen wouldn't say."

"Neither would Arthur or ANY of his friends," Julie pouted, before adding, "Julie Morton, and this is Tomas Ramirez. Any idea which house we'll be in?"

"My family's been Slytherin for ages," Kent said. "With my luck, I'll be the first Gryffindor. You're both Yanks, right?" Julie nodded, and he asked, "Why didn't you go to Salem?"

"I was able to go to Hogwarts for a visit at Christmas, and got a chance to see the place then," Julie replied, "Besides, the family trust says I have to come here. Besides, I thought Salem was just, I don't know, creepy." She turned to look at the brunette, "What about you?"

"Ami Bones, and yes, that's my aunt." Julie raised an eyebrow, and Ami explained as she took a seat, "You're a Yank, so you wouldn't know. My Aunt was head of DMLE before Fudge forced her out, and for what it's worth, neither she nor my cousin Susan would tell me what the Sorting ceremony is like. Susan, by the by, was Quidditch captain for Hufflepuff. Probably where I'll be," she sighed.

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff? That's where my brother is," Julie asked.

"It's the reject house, it's where you go if you're not courageous enough for Gryffindor or smart enough for Ravenclaw," Kent said.

"Or sneaky enough for Slytherin," Ami added. "The regular, everyday, boring kids go in Hufflepuff, although they did pull off an upset to win the House cup two years ago." She sighed again, "It's where my family's been for ages."

"Trade you for Slytherin," Kent said. "If you're a member of the Snake's Den, people look at you funny, that's where You-Know-Who was from."

"But… I'm confused. Mattie's in Slytherin, she's a good kid," Julie said, and Kent snorted, "So is my sister, but that's the reputation."

------------------------  
_**Friday, September 1, 2000:  
**_**_Hogwarts Express, northbound: 16:45  
_**------------------------

The train corridor was busy, with young witches and wizards making last minute stops in the loo and conversing with friends from other compartments. Mattie waited until an older student left the loo, slipping in and looking at the other witch. "Malfoy," she said.

"Mudblood," the icy blonde sneered as Mattie turned to enter a stall. She turned and wrenched open the door as Mattie was about to sit, shouting '_Chronos ..._' as the scream of brakes sounded. With a flash of golden light, Mattie disappeared, Lucille Malfoy smirking as she cast '_Follicus Extensis_' on the floor, as the room shifted with the train's deceleration. With a last glance in the mirror, the blonde witch left the compartment vacant.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, September 1, 1379:  
Scotland, Hogwarts carriage house: 16:45  
_**------------------------

The last few arriving students were handing over their mounts to the grooms when a pinpoint of golden fire appeared, expanding, then dropping a raven haired girl in a short grey skirt to the muddy ground with a crash. As one groomsman checked her, the others settled the horses. "She's alive!" he called. "Best get her up to the castle." He gently laid her in the back of a wagon, the clucked to the horse as he led her out into the rain.

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 1, 2000:  
Hogsmeade station: 17:00  
_**------------------------

"Firs' years over here!" Hagrid called, "Firs' years over here!"

"Hello, Mr. Hagrid," Julie said. "Mattie said she's looking forward to your class."

"She did, did she?" the huge man said, delighted. "We got a few special treats f' her this year," he confided. "Y' would be?"

"Julie Morton," she said, "This is Mattie's brother, Tomas Ramirez."

"D'lighted to meet ye!" Hagrid boomed, shaking their hands. "Mr. Ramirez, I was sorry t' hear abou' yer mum. Now stay close, we'll be leavin' for the castle shortly."

------------------------

Hagrid did a quick head count, saying, "Righ' now. F'llow me, up one more flight, an' ye'll be met. G'luck with your stay a' Hogwarts."

A blonde witch in sky blue robes waited for the nervous firsties. "Good evening. I am Deputy Headmistress Vector. In a moment, I will take you to be sorted into one of four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Your house is your family while you are at Hogwarts, good grades and following the rules will gain points, while misbehavior and rule breaking will cost points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House cup." She favored them with a glance, "You have a minute to straighten up. I suggest you do so." She left them, walking through the anteroom, and getting Minerva's nod.

Julie straightened Tomas' collar, asking, "How do I look?"

He smiled weakly, "As nervous as I am."

Vector reappeared silently. "If everyone is ready, please follow me," opening the doors to the Great Hall, leading the line of nervous firsties.

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 1, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 17:33  
_**------------------------

"Morton, Julia!"

Julie took a breath as she walked between the tables, her brother giving her hand a brief squeeze as she passed. Smoothing her skirt, the Sorting Hat was lowered over her eyes.

"_Hello, Miss Morton, and welcome to Hogwarts. A bit like your brother, I see." _

"_Hello, Mr. Alastair. How do you mean, I'm like Arthur? And… you're reading my mind?" _

"_Why, yes, how else do you expect me to sort you?" _The Hat sighed,_ "Not another Occlumens like Miss Wayne, thank Merlin. She was most difficult to Sort, set a school record. Now then, where shall I put you?" _

"_Yes, Mattie told me to say hi. Could I go with Arthur?" _

"_Not if that's the best reason you can give me, dear. I have been Sorting people and reading minds for over a thousand years. Hmm. Yes, I think you'd be best off in **GRYFFINDOR**!"_

The Hat was pulled off Julie's head; she blinked and headed to the cheering table against the far wall.

------------------------

"Ramirez, Tomas!"

"_Hello, Mr. Ramirez_," the Hat said. "_Welcome to Hogwarts._"

"_Gracias, Senor Alastair,_" Tomas replied politely.

"_Ah, I see Miss Wayne has briefed you on me. Would you prefer we converse in Spanish?_"

"_It does not matter, Senor._"

Alastair switched to Spanish, "_(I don't mind, Tomas. Now, let's see where we should put you. Hmm. Given your background, the affinity for the common man is not as strong as you would think.)_" "Not Hufflepuff," he announced to a groan.

"_(Let's see. You have a strong desire for vengance on the death of your mother, with a slight bit of worry that you'll be sent to your uncle Raul's custody. Interesting, but I would put my trust in Mrs. Wayne. You have formidable allies, Tomas. You can learn to trust them, however, that rules out Gryffindor.)_" "Not Gryffindor," he announced to another groan.

"_(I do so enjoy a challenge,)_" Alastair admitted. "_(The last one was your sister Mattie's Sorting. Let's see, you have your devious side, the desire for perfection is there, like your sister's, but not as strong. No, more important to you is the hunger to KNOW. I think you'll be best in...)_ **_RAVENCLAW_**!"

------------------------

The Headmistress stood, tapping her goblet. "Thank you. Now that we have eaten, I have just a few start-of-term announcements. As always, magic is forbidden in the corridors, and Mr. Filch's list of banned items has grown to sixty-seven feet, should you care to peruse it." There was general laughter, "The Forbidden Forest remains strictly forbidden to all students, as I presume you do not wish to die a _most_ horrible death." Minerva favored them with a look, "Classes start Monday, so you have a weekend to prepare. Off to bed with you."

------------------------

"Kent Samuel Bundy," the nervous firstie said as he smeared his blood on his name, tapping it with his wand. It paused, and then rotated with other members of Slytherin House.

"And our final and newest member of the Den, Miss Bones," Professor Snape said. Ami swallowed hard; accepting the knife, "Ami Miranda Bones" she said, smearing her blood on her name; then tapping her wand. It started to rotate with the others, and there was general applause.

"Very well," Professor Snape said. "As a member of Slytherin, we support each other, even if we disagree in private. If you need assistance with your studies, seek out another member of the den for private tutoring. Ladies, if you need a pass for your monthly time, please do not hesitate to ask myself or a nurse. However, if you are using it to skive off class, _I will know_." He favored them all with a glower. "Any detentions you earn will be doubled by me. Lastly, I will be _most_ unhappy with an unplanned pregnancy, potions are available from myself or the nurse. I expect you to exercise discretion. Miss Bundy?"

"Thank you, professor," she said as he headed off. "Sound travels up and down the stairwells, if you snore, have sex or otherwise make noise, please be courteous and use silencing spells. One last bit of advice to the firsties," she added. "Believe every word."

Sprink knocked on the Potion Master's door, it opened for her. "Professor, I haven't seen Mattie since the train, is she in the infirmary?"

"Not that I am aware, Miss Tonks," he said. "When is the last time you saw her?"

"Before the train pulled into Hogsmeade, she went to the loo."

"I see. I shall investigate. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Sprink nodded and left.

------------------------

"Welcome to the Eagle's Nest!" Professor Flitwick said, "I do hope you'll be happy here! Well, now. We do pride ourselves in having the highest grade average of all the four houses, so if you have difficulties, please don't hesitate to ask a Housemate for help. Better you know, after all."

He smiled, "For the ladies, during that, err, special time of the month, please don't hesitate to see me or a nurse for a potion or charm. If you plan to, err, spend time with that special someone; please make sure your contraceptive charms are current." He bounced happily, "Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts!"

------------------------

"Welcome to Gryffindor House," Harry said. "This is my wife Ginny, she's available to anyone, in any house, who needs a big sister to talk to." Julie grinned at that. "The password changes once a month, you may get it from Ginny, myself, or one of your prefects, September's password is 'honor', which is not to be shared with the other houses." he added. "You do get used to the climb up here, its good exercise." People chuckled. "Girls up the left staircase, boys up the right. The girl's staircase is spelled so boys can't get up it, though. Breakfast from seven to nine, lunch from twelve to one, dinner five to six. I'm available if you have any questions or problems. Welcome to Hogwarts!"

He left with Ginny, Julie asking a platinum blonde, "What happened to our trunks?"

Cooly, she replied, "The house-elves brought them to your dormitory." She turned to move off, Amanda telling Julie, "Watch out for Malfoy. She's trouble, your brother asked us to keep an eye out for you. Let's get you settled."

------------------------

"Argyle," Severus told the statue, who rotated aside. He knocked on Minerva's door, opening it when she called, "Come, Severus."

The room had changed somewhat, the towering bookcases remained, but the shelves of knick-knacks Albus had collected were gone, replaced by a large tapestry that showed the complex interweaving of wizarding bloodlines. Minerva moved away from it, "I thought to cover all of the British Isles, but I'm wondering about the inclusion of Americans in it." She moved a hand, "Some, like Miss Wayne for instance, have both Scottish and French wizarding blood. Her mother comes from a long line of French weres, after all."

"Regarding Miss Wayne, she's missing," Severus said. "She was last seen on the way to the loo, just before the train entered Hogsmeade station."

"Oh, my!" Minerva said. "We'd best summon our freshly trained Aurors. I'll send an owl straightaway."

"I, on the other hand, will brace myself for a howler from Mrs. Wayne," Severus said.

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 1, 2000:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor: 14:31 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

Selina's laptop pinged, and she checked her mail.

_To: Selina Wayne  
CC: Barbara Grayson, Minerva McGonagall  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 1 September, 2000  
Subject: Re: Mattie Wayne  
_

_Mrs. Wayne,  
We have just been informed that your daughter has not been seen since shortly before the train entered Hogsmeade station, when she visited the loo.  
_

_We are investigating, and will keep you informed.  
__Severus Snape _

_> Professor Snape: _

_> I have received a safe arrival email from Tomas, but not from Mattie. Is there a problem?  
__> Selina Wayne_

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:48  
_**------------------------

Sprink worried as she chewed a rasher of bacon. A few feet down the table, Ami Bones was hesitantly sitting down. As Professor Snape entered, she jumped up, calling, "P'fessor Snape?"

"Miss Tonks?"

Sprink lowered her voice, "Any word about Mattie?"

Severus cast a privacy spell, "None so far. She is not in the infirmary, Professor Vector and I searched the train station with members of the town council last night. We plan a more extensive search today, if this dratted rain does not interfere too badly. Do you have any of her clothing? Professor Potter and I will look for her scent."

"I _know_ her scent, an' only if I can help!" she said stubbornly.

He pursed his lips. "Very well. In the interim, do not discuss this with others. We do not wish any students going off half-cocked. Meet us in your dorm in half an hour." He banished the privacy spell, moving toward Hufflepuff.

------------------------

"Mr. Morton, a word?"

Arthur looked up at Professor Snape, and nodded, closing his laptop. He moved against the wall, where the Professor cast a privacy spell. "Mr. Morton, I am aware that you are close to Miss Wayne. As you may have noticed, she is missing. We are investigating, and Miss Tonks will be assisting us this morning. In the interim, I do not wish wild rumours and false charges to circulate. When we have more information, we shall inform you, so keep your opinions to yourself. Is that clear?"

"Sir, the Waynes?"

"Mrs. Wayne is aware of the situation. We plan to search the train station this morning, the Headmistress sent off an owl last night regarding the train itself." He banished the privacy spell, reminding Arthur, "Keep your opinions to yourself."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 2, 2000:  
London, Charing Cross station, DMLE: 08:15  
_**------------------------

Nymphadora Tonks chewed on her lip, typing two-fingered into her new compulator. She absently tugged on her mouse, the cord upsetting her mug of tea, staining the 'Dummies' reference book it propped open. "Gor blimey!" she swore, jumping up and banishing the mess, then casting a cleaning spell on her skirt.

"Tonks!" Rufus bellowed, appearing with a file folder. He looked down his nose as she awkwardly aimed her wand at herself. He snorted, and cast a cleaning spell himself. Clearing his throat, he said, "Tonks, you have a sister at Hogwarts, is that right?" She nodded, and he dropped the folder on her desk. "You scored well on your examinations, and you're a Slytherin. We've a missing student, a Miss Wayne. This case is a very hot potato, Tonks, the Waynes have a great deal of money and influence." He glowered at her, "This case will prove if our reforms have had an effect. By the book, Tonks, solve this case!" He turned away, then said, "Apparate to the Hogsmeade train station, and take a brolly, its raining there."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 2, 2000:  
Hogsmeade train station: 08:18  
_**------------------------

Tonks popped into the apparition point of the station, seeing Professor Snape among several figures sheltering from the pouring rain. She smiled on seeing her sister, eyed the large black panther; then said, "Tonks, DMLE. What d' you know about the missing student?"

Professor Snape replied, "Your sister reported her missing last night after the initiation ceremony. From what I understand, Miss Wayne went to the loo shortly before the train entered Hogsmeade station. That is the last anyone has seen her. A point me spell returned no results either here or in the castle last night. The Headmistress owled off about the train last night, I have not heard a result as yet. Mrs. Wayne has been informed."

"This rain won't help," Sprink said. "We'll do what we can, though." She transformed, leaping off the platform and starting to quarter the track, heading south. The panther yawned at them, leaping off the platform to sniff the tracks.

"We'll head to London next to search the train itself," Tonks said. "Hopefully GNER hasn't scrubbed the cars."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 2, 2000:  
London, GNER train depot: 11:05  
_**------------------------

"This is the compartment we were in," Sprink said. "Unfortunately, they've cleaned the train; the owl didn't get here in time. Still, we'll find what we can. Shadow, if you could search the front, I'll search the back, we'll meet here."

"I shall join you, Shadow," Professor Snape said, while Tonks held the door for her transformed sister.

------------------------

Sprink's tail wagged, she found a faint trail, underneath the smell of disinfectants (Ew!) and other chemicals. She slowly quartered the train car, winding up next to the door to the loo. She scratched at it; her sister opened the door to the female loo. Her nose twitched, she slowly quartered the small room, winding up at one of the stalls. Transforming back, she said, "The trail ends in that stall. She was on the pot when whatever happened, happened." She met her sister's eyes, "Best I can tell you. Maybe Shadow can sniff out more."

Tonks sighed, "We'll have him start at the compartment, do another search, to be sure. Bloody smart panther. Anything else you can tell me?"

"Just about every girl on the train car came in here, including me," Sprink said. "I can't distinguish time when each was here, sorry. What about spells?"

"Lots of glamour and beauty spells, like '_Follicus_'," Tonks said. "They overlay each other. Finding a dark or unknown spell is almost impossible." She opened the door, "Let's let the others know, and have Shadow repeat the search." She scratched her head, "I make my preliminary report, an' then start interviewing girls on the train."

------------------------

_To: Selina Wayne  
CC: Barbara Grayson, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape  
From: Sheila Hawking  
Date: 2 September, 2000  
Subject: Mattie Wayne  
_

_Selina,  
Professor Snape just arrived to give me a personal briefing on Mattie's disappearance. They have searched the train and the station for her, and were able to trace a partial scent to a particular stall in the train car's female washroom. _

_Sprink is the one that found Mattie's scent; which was confirmed by another person. That particular washroom was used by every girl in the train car. Unfortunately, an accurate timeline is impossible; the train was cleaned after arrival. The spells detected are beauty spells, which overlay each other. The next step is to interview every girl on the train that night, which will take time._

_I informed him that we were unable to contact her by her Ring – 'user not found' was the message.  
Sheila_

------------------------


	4. Week Two, Third Year

Author's Note: The story uses the Julian calendar in places, as the modern Gregorian calendar wasn't used until 1752. September 1st, 1379 (Julian) is a Thursday, but September 1st, 2000 (Gregorian) is a day later (Friday) because of leap year.

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
4 – Second week, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 3, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 10:39  
_**------------------------

"Come in, Miss Bell," Tonks called as Ginny escorted the Ravenclaw firstie in. "Now, I'd like to state that this meeting is being recorded by an Unchangable Quotes Quill as you see, and you are not in any trouble. Furthermore, you can have a parent or a solicitor here if you wish. Any questions so far?"

"There's a good bit of rumour," Vickie said. "Why only girls?"

Tonks replied, "A girl is missing, and it happened in the female loo on the train. There's a gender line on the doorsill, so it couldn't have been a guy." Vickie nodded, Tonks continuing, "Now then, we're in the Staff room of Hogwarts, and today's date is September 3, 2000, it's twenty till eleven am. Present are Ginny Potter as escort, Nymphadora Tonks of the DMLE, and Vickie Bell. Miss Bell, for the duration of this session, I'm going to put a truth charm on you, which will also help your memory. We've permission from the Wizengamot (she passed over a sheet of paper) for this. I'll remove the truth charm today; we're only concerned with the train ride to Hogwarts on the first, nothing else."

"What's the spell for?" Miss Bell asked, glancing at the sheet with two unfamiliar signatures.

"It helps you recall accurately," Tonks replied. "We'll ask you not to gossip about the investigation, since a girl from the train had to have done this, we don't want to tip her off, right?" Miss Bell nodded, Tonks adding with a smile, "Any questions? Want anyone else here?"

"No, nobody else, and let's get it done," the somewhat nervous firstie said. Tonks smiled, casting '_Veritas anima_' and saying, "No reason to be nervous dear. Now then, your full name, and let's start at Platform 9 ¾...

------------------------

'_Finite Incantatem_', Tonks said to cancel the spell, and Vickie shook her head. "Are you all right, dear? Shall I call the infirmary?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine," the firstie said, the quill still industriously scratching away. "Why is it still going?" she asked.

"Everything's being recorded, keeps it all proper and aboveboard," Tonks replied cheerfully. "Have you any questions?" The girl shook her head.

"Now then, if you're feeling all right, you can be off." Vickie jumped up and ran out, Tonks sighing, "This is gonna take forever." She flipped through her pad of names, drawing a line through 'Bell, Victorinex.', and saying, "Next is Belks, Melinda, a seventh-year Huffie." Tonks stood to stretch, "I'm going to visit the loo if you'd be so kind as to fetch Miss Belks?"

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 4, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Hogwarts infirmary: 06:03  
_**------------------------

The girl groaned, hand flopping to her forehead. "I have _such_ a headache," she complained.

"'Tis no wonder, you took a nasty spill," a woman's voice replied as she put a cold cloth on her head. "Not to worry, we've maintained your dignity, I'm the one that undressed you." She tisked, adding, "Such scanty clothes, were you abducted in your nightwear?"

"No, it's my school uniform," she said, flopping the cloth over. "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you, and where am I?"

"I am Perenelle Flamel; my husband is Nicholas, professor of Alchemy. You're in the infirmary, this is Hogwarts School of Wizardry," she added.

"Thank you. Mattie Wayne," she offered, waving a hand. "Wait a minute, that doesn't sound right," she said, turning her head and wincing. "What spell did that little bitch Malfoy hit me with?" she muttered.

Perenelle sucked her breath in, but Mattie said, "It fits. She's been trying to bring the Dark Lord back to life for three years. Maybe she thinks this resurrection will keep." She pressed the damp rag to her forehead, asking, "What was the school's name again?"

"Hogwarts School of Wizardry."

Mattie pulled herself up. "I thought that's what you said. Your husband, Nicholas, teaches Alchemy?" Perenelle nodded, and Mattie twisted in the bed, wincing again. "May I ask the date?"

"September fourth."

"The year, please?"

"The year of our Lord 1379."

Mattie flopped back, "Wonderful."

------------------------

"You wished to see me, dear?" the grey-haired witch asked. "I am Headmistress Alberta Oldridge, and this is Master Nicholas Flamel. Oh, don't get up."

"Thank you, Mistress. Master Flamel," Mattie said, politely nodding her head. "I suppose we'd best get to business. If I am to understand you correctly, this is the year 1379?" Heads nodded, and Mattie took; then released a breath. "I was born May 31, 1988. Six hundred years from now."

"Six hundred nine," Master Flamel corrected absently. "I presume you are a student at Hogwarts. By your size, a sixth year?"

"Just starting third; I hope you know a time-travel spell, as I certainly don't."

"None come to mind. Have you any proof of this?"

"Um," Mattie thought, "I had a bag, and my wands?"

"Your bag is under your bed; your clothes are in the drawer. They were washed for you." Perenelle asked, "Why do you carry two wands, dear?"

"It's a long story, even if I could tell it, which I don't think I should," Mattie said as she dug through her bag. "Ah, here we are!" she passed over a tan wand, the Headmistress reading, "Property United States Government?"

"I doubt very much you have that government on this planet at this time. For further proof, I have money." Mattie passed over a British ten-pound note dated 1996.

"This is currency?" Master Flamel asked, rubbing it between his fingers. "It feels like fine linen cloth. You do not use gold?"

"Muggles haven't used gold since…" Mattie slapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I have to be very careful about what I say. It is cloth, only there is some method the government uses that lets you fold it like paper." She took it back, and absently folded it into a paper airplane, "The government uses it instead of gold. It's much lighter and easier to carry." She flicked her wrist, and the banknote spiraled before softly landing on a bed.

"A thing that flies without magic…" Perenelle whispered, as their eyes followed it. Mattie blanched, and lunged for it, "Oh, god, oh god, oh god!"

"Why do you call upon the Lord, child?" the Headmistress asked.

"Because unpowered flight won't be invented for… a while! I have to guard the timeline!"

"We shall speak naught of it," the Headmistress said, eyeing the Flamels. They nodded, while Mistress Oldridge asked, "What is this 'timeline' you fear so much for?"

"But you still know of it! That by itself may be enough to disrupt it! I may have killed billions and billions of people!" Mattie took a breath, then asked, "May I erase the memory?"

"How might our knowing of something kill … how many people did you say?" Nicholas asked. "I do not think there are that many people alive!"

"Let me see if I can explain this," Mattie said. "Quantum mechanics and higher math was never my best subject." She thought for a minute; then said, "Imagine three groups of people walking along a stream. The footpath they're on is charmed so they cannot stop walking."

A _mobilus_ charm, go on," the Headmistress said, leaning forward in her chair, fascinated.

"They're walking in the same direction and speed as the stream." The other three nodded, and Mattie continued, "You three are in the middle group. However, a strong wind just picked me up from the first group and dropped me in with your group. Now, when I landed in with you, I dislodged some rocks from the path, which landed in the stream. When you toss a rock into a stream, there's a brief period of time when that rock _blocks_ the path of that bit of the stream. Follow me?"

"I believe so, but what of the third group on the path, the ones behind us?" Nicholas asked.

"Those are the people from six hundred years before _now_," Mattie replied. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, "In recent times, has there been a large loss of life?"

"Indeed there was!" Perenelle said. "The Black Death! Thousands of people died from it, and…" Mattie watched her, "… the people in the third group know not of it."

"No, they don't. They haven't walked that part of the path yet," Mattie said. "There are two other things. I mentioned stones being dislodged into the stream?" They nodded, "Each drop of water in that stream represents a life. What happens if a big enough rock is tossed into the stream?"

"The stream is blocked," the Headmistress said. "That is where your billions of lives come from?"

Mattie nodded, "By simply talking like this, I am throwing dust in the stream. However, by revealing that unpowered flight is possible before its time, I am throwing a rock in. How big, I don't know."

"Coming from the distant future, you should know what occurs," Perenelle said.

Mattie shook her head. "If a gust of wind picked you up, and dropped you with the third group, in the seventh century, what would you know? Only what you remember from school history classes, which used a very broad brush." She sighed, "People will ask me what their fates are, and I can't answer them, primarily because _I don't know_."

Perenelle opened her mouth; then closed it, thinking. Her husband said, "You do know some people's fates, though." Mattie nodded, Nicholas slowly continuing, "However, if you were to reveal them, you would be throwing a rock in the stream."

"Yes," Mattie nodded. "If you were to tell someone that they would die at a particular time, in a particular location, they would avoid that." They nodded, the Headmistress slowly adding, "That would affect other people, though."

"Which would affect still more people, and we wind up with billions of people," Mattie nodded. "Now, people are going to die no matter what, it's the manner of their lives and deaths that matter. Can you think of someone that died from the Black Death that was a true shame? A very bright person; or someone truly gifted?" All three nodded, and she asked, "What if that person was brought back to life? What would change?"

"You can raise the dead?" Nicholas asked.

"**_I_** cannot," Mattie said, and then changed the subject, "I'm sure that you have questions regarding the future," she grinned, "I know I would. I'll answer what I can, but if I don't..."

"We shall not press you," the Headmistress said. "I would suggest that we announce your status up front. If we were to lie, especially given your peculiar accent, we would be caught out in moments." She gazed at Mattie, "My question would be precisely where you are from?"

"I was not born in the British Isles," Mattie said. She thought for a minute, adding, "I was born in a city called Gotham on a continent that has yet to be discovered. Next?"

"A continent yet to be discovered?" Perenelle asked. "How big is the world, and how many live on it?"

"Seven continents, and Earth's population on January first, 2000, if I remember correctly, is about six and a half billion."

"Billion? But you spoke of Earth's population," Nicholas asked, "Does that mean that..." Mattie shook her head, "Oh, drat. Um, what of cities?"

"Tokyo is the largest, with 26 million or so, while London has seven million. Others, well..." Mattie grinned, "Sorry."

"You said that this field was not your best," the Headmistress said. "What schooling have you had, dear?" At Mattie's raised eyebrow, she explained, "I shall put this in the Headmaster's journal for your own headmaster to see, but it would be best if I knew what your academic background was."

"Um. Reading, writing, composition, basic mathematics," Mattie said, expanding at the Headmistress' eyebrow, "...Addition, subtraction, geometry, algebra, and basic physics and chemistry. At Hogwarts, I've taken second-year Astronomy, History, Charms, Herbology, Potions, and Defense. I was looking forward to taking Alchemy lessons, it's not a normally offered course. I've been studying it on my own, and bothering my Head of House about it – he's the Potions Master," she added.

"You are a Slytherin, dear? I wasn't sure, with the embroidered patch and the green..." Perenelle asked. Mattie nodded, "I don't think Alastair would know me, though. He hasn't Sorted me yet, although I've taken him to Quidditch games."

"Something he complains about," Nicholas added, "In any case, I am your Head of House, my dear. We shall talk later about Potions and Alchemy. For now, we shall withdraw, and allow you to get dressed for breakfast."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 4, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 09:05  
_**------------------------

"Good morning," Mattie said as she smoothed her skirt and sat. "I'm Mattie Wayne; I'll be with you for a while."

"Thomas Bones," a fellow said. "I don't remember you being sorted into Slytherin."

"The headmistress will address that," Mattie said. "Pass the milk, please."

The pitcher dropped with a crash, breaking open. Mattie waved her hand at it; saying '_reparo_'. A blond shook his head, saying, "You didn't use a wand."

"I've been practicing," Mattie said. "It's easier to use a wand to focus with, but what happens when you don't have one?"

The Headmistress entered, taking her place at the High Table and tapping a goblet with a knife. "Your attention, please. We have a new student for a time. Miss Wayne (she motioned, and Mattie stood), is visiting us from the future. You will not inquire of her regarding future occurrences, nor will you ask to your fates. To do so would have unimaginable consequences. If I hear of a student forcing her, you will be memory-wiped and expelled. Is that clear?"

Professor Flamel addressed his house, "You shall not press her on this, nor will you allow others to. She has given good and sufficient evidence to the Headmistress and I. You will regard her as any other third-year student." Nods and mutters of 'Yes, sir,' answered him, and he proceeded to the head table.

"Drat," one fellow said. "What can you tell us?"

"Not enough to keep either one of us happy," Mattie shrugged. "I'm sorry about that. I know how I'd feel if someone was dropped into my lap from six hundred years in the future."

"Six hundred years..." someone whispered. "What must it look like?"

"It's the same castle, from what I've seen so far. There's the same moving staircases and such, although I'm sure there are differences, of course." Mattie took a sip. "The uniform is different, as you can see, and the infirmary is on a different floor, though. Why it was moved, I've no idea."

"I'd be out of my wits," one girl said, adding, "Anne Bundy."

"I'm not very good with it," Mattie admitted. "I'm more frightened of saying or doing something that will endanger the future." She looked about the table, muttering, "No coffee, damn it."

"What is coffee?"

Mattie slapped her forehead, "See what I mean? Coffee is a drink, similar to tea."

"Ah, the Crusaders mentioned it," Anne said.

Mattie relaxed; then shook her head. "That's right, the Crusades. Here I was thinking I'd have to wipe your memories over coffee." She sighed, "It's so difficult to think common, everyday things haven't been invented yet, or places haven't been discovered."

"Surely you would have learned such things in History class," one blond fellow said.

"Yes, but my History instructor was not exactly exciting," Mattie said. "He tends to focus on one thing, one set of 'verified facts' as he called..." Mattie stopped as people went pale around her. "What?"

"You've just described Professor Binns... including his favorite phrase," Anne said. She jerked her head at the Head Table, "The fellow in the brown robes with the beard. He's the head of Hufflepuff."

"Oh, lord..." Mattie breathed. "You can't tell him..."

"We shall not," the platinum blond told her, adding, "Augustus Malfoy. What do you feel comfortable telling us?"

Mattie considered, "I was Sorted into Slytherin on September first, 1998."

"What is the ceremony?" Anne asked.

"Not in public!" Mattie hissed. She waved her hand, casting '_obscurus aqua_' over the two of them, then asking, "Your name is Bundy? My Quidditch captain's name is Bundy." Mattie grinned, and continued, "The ceremony I went through was this: my head of house cast a spell on a column in the common room, and a listing of the members of the Den appeared." Anne nodded, Mattie continuing, "I tapped my wand on it, invoking my full name; then smeared some of my blood over each of the words. The names started scrolling again, and the ceremony moved on to the next person."

Anne nodded, "What order were you called?"

"Reverse alphabetical by last name."

"Cancel the spell, please." Mattie waved her hand, Anne announcing to the table, "She is a Slytherin. She has gone through the initiation ceremony." She turned to look at Mattie, "How came you here?"

"I was caught unaware by a spell cast by an enemy. Know any time-travel spells?"

"Not to travel six hundred years," Augustus said. "How will you notify your kin?"

"The Headmistress said there is a daily journal that is kept by the Headmaster. She will add to that, hopefully they will remember to look back at previous years."

Augustus said. "Why do you fear informing us of the future?"

"Two reasons," Mattie said. "Firstly, if I tell you what will occur, it may change, because of that foreknowledge."

"How so?" Anne asked.

"Simple," Mattie replied. "If you were to have foreknowledge of, say, the date and manner of your death, you would avoid that," and several people nodded. "That would affect the course of history, changing it and possibly sparing and killing billions of people."

"Billions?" Augustus asked. "There are not that many people alive!"

"If I remember correctly, Earth's population on January first, 2000 was about six and a half billion," Mattie answered. "Don't forget, there'll be thirty or so generations between then and now."

"Drat," Augustus muttered. "Why else can't you inform us as to our fate?"

"Simple, I don't know," Mattie said. "Put yourself in my place. You've just been sent several hundred years to your past, to say, the Roman occupation of Britain. What could you tell someone then of his future?"

"True... but you would know some..." Anne said.

"I do, or at least I recognize your clan, but as far as your individual fates?" Mattie shrugged again. "Sorry, and I have no way to look it up, even if I could answer. All my school supplies, with the exception of my bag, were left behind."

Augustus said, "Perhaps it would be best if we were to introduce you to everyone."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 3, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 11:49  
_**------------------------

"Thank you, Miss Belks," Tonks said, and the seventh-year strolled out. She smiled at Ginny, "Let's get lunch; I owe you and Harry a good dinner for this." She checked her scroll, crossing off Miss Belks; "After lunch, we can do Miss Melinda Bobbin, a seventh year Gryffie."

"Who's going to do this during the week?" Ginny asked.

"Minerva's got a schedule of faculty, Monday morning is Vector, then Hagrid in the afternoon," Tonks said, waving a sheet of parchment. "Harry on Tuesday all day, bless 'im."

"This will take you something like three weeks to work through all the girls on the train," Ginny said. "I was there, too, and the trolly lady, can't discount us."

"Miss Wayne's brother, the copper?" Tonks asked, Ginny nodding, "We traded war stories once; the muggle coppers are called 'flatfeet'. I've got it easy now, I'm sitting during the day. I'll just have to march on." She heaved herself up, "C'mon, I'll buy y' a cuppa."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 4, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Hogwarts: 12:33  
_**------------------------

"... And this fellow is the groundskeeper, Mr. Peeves," Augustus said, and Mattie started. Anne caught Augustus' eye as Mattie politely greeted the crotchety old man, who grumbled and tugged on his forelock before moving off.

"You know him," Anne said quietly. "Not just his clan, the man himself. You reacted to his name."

"Damn," Mattie cursed. She reacted to Anne's crossing of herself by sighing, saying, "Sorry about that. This is harder than I expected."

"As difficult for us," Augustus said, "To know that you know the fates of some within this castle, but cannot speak of them," he raised a hand. "I cannot fault your reasons. Indeed, the knowledge that you care enough about them is to your credit, but I do not think I could bear that burden. Ah, here is someone else! Baron, a moment?"

The Slytherin house ghost floated closer, Augustus doing the honors, "Baron, may I present Miss Wayne. She is visiting us from the future Hogwarts, where she is a member of Slytherin House."

Mattie bowed, "Honored specter, a pleasure to see you again."

The Baron bowed himself, "A pleasure to meet one who has a grasp of the courtesies due the dead."

"I was instructed by the ghosts of my own time, sir."

"Excellent. I shall mention your courtesy at the next meeting of the ghosts' council. How long will you be with us?"

"Only long enough to return to my own time, sir. I fear disruption of the timeline."

"As well you should. If I may assist you, you have only to speak my name. I shall inform the other castle ghosts." The Baron bowed again courteously and vanished.

"Familiarity with the castle ghosts, knows two people by name..." Anne said, then fixed Mattie with a gaze, "Binns and Peeves are ghosts?"

Mattie looked at her, finally saying, "I can't answer that."

"Enough, Anne," Augustus said. "Ah, Melanie, you were not at breakfast. Miss Wayne, this is Melanie Snape." Mattie did another small start, which Anne noticed as Augustus continued, "You may get the tale from Professor Flamel, but Miss Wayne is visiting us from the Hogwarts of the future." He raised his hand, "We are instructed, on pain of memory erasure and expulsion, not to press her for details, nor allow others to do so."

"The future?" Melanie said. "Can you tell me who I will be married off to?"

"Er, sorry, no," Mattie said. Melanie pouted and ran off, and Mattie sighed. "Married off to?" she asked.

"No arranged marriages?" Augustus asked. "How will wizarding bloodlines be preserved?"

"It's not something I've worried about," Mattie admitted.

"I confess surprise," Augustus said. "You are apparently a powerful witch, with good bloodlines. I surmise you are sixteen or so, definitely marriageable."

"Twelve, actually. I started Hogwarts a year early, and my father's family is Scottish, my mother's French," Mattie said. "No, our tradition is for the couple to find each other, date, then marry. Arranged marriages are somewhat old-fashioned."

"Apparently so are we," Augustus said, Mattie shaking her head, "Different times, and different customs. I'm the guest, I'll have to adapt as well as I can." She glowered, "That doesn't mean you can marry me off to the next bloke that wanders by." A Hufflepuff wandered by, curious at the news, and the three Slytherins burst into laughter.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 4, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Hogwarts: 19:22  
_**------------------------

"Come, Mattie, I'll show you where we sleep." Mattie turned to the Slytherin dorms, and Anne giggled, "Not with the boys, silly."

"You don't sleep with the rest of the house?"

"I should say not!" Anne exclaimed; then considered Mattie's confused look. "Oh, you don't mean abed with them, do you?"

Mattie motioned for her to precede her, "No, in my time there are separate girls' and boys' dormitories for each house, although the phrase 'sleep with' does mean, or imply, having sex."

"Differences," Anne sighed. "How I dearly wish I could visit. However, that's not to be."

"At least here, you're _home_, while I'm not," Mattie replied, "Like on a long ocean voyage, not sure you'll survive the trip."

"You could always stay," Anne offered, but Mattie shook her head. "What about my own future marriage, children, and grandchildren? I have a family, my two brothers, one of who was just starting Hogwarts this year."

"Here we are, the girl's tower," Anne said, cocking an eye. "Another difference?"

"This is the astronomy tower," Mattie said, then stamped her foot, "I was so looking forward to class! I had such a great trip over the summer!"

"The Headmistress spelled the door in some way so that only women might pass," Anne said, pulling open the door. "'Tis frightfully advanced magic. Where did you go? Didn't it take years?"

"A few weeks," Mattie mused, waving her wand about and studying the magic. "It was a quick trip to Oa, only a day's flight each way. This is just a simple gender line, keyed off your chrom..." she looked up, wagging her finger, "Naughty, naughty. Upstairs with you, m'dear. I'll have to decide if you can keep that bit of knowledge." The door boomed shut behind them.

------------------------

"You _bathe_ every night? Anne asked in shock. "It's, well, it's somewhat sinful."

"Every morning, too," Mattie said. "Haven't you heard the phrase, 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness'?" she asked, shivering as her foot entered the cold water, and casting sterilizing and heating spells. She sighed, then said, "C'mon in, it won't hurt you, and it will keep you healthy."

"How so?" She extended a foot to touch the water, adding, "It's _hot_!"

"Just warm, just a heating charm on the water. If you're bathing in cold water in a Scottish winter, I see why you don't want to make a habit of it." She motioned to Anne, "Do I have to pull you in?"

"Pull whom in?" Melanie asked as she entered. "Oh, you're bathing!"

"Yes I am, and I want each of you girls in here with me in the next five minutes," Mattie declared. "I am not getting sick and dying because of your fears. Bathe!"

------------------------

"This is actually rather fun," Anne said, splashing Melanie. "It reminds me of swimming in the pond in summer, but what did you mean by 'sick and dying'?"

Mattie regarded her, "I'll have to ask you to take me on faith, as you don't yet have any way to prove it or not." The girls nodded, "Many diseases are caused by very small vermin, called germs, which live on fleas, ticks, and so forth. Regular bathing and sanitation defeats those germs, which makes you stronger and healthier." She grinned, "It can also be fun to scrub with a partner," and winked.

"So you know what caused the Black Death?" a girl whispered in awe.

"Not specifically, but it's likely enough that I'd lay gold on it."

------------------------  
**_Monday, September 5, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 12:13  
_**------------------------

"What are you on about?" Melanie asked. "Today's the first day of class, we haven't any schoolwork yet."

"I'm writing letters home," Mattie replied, dipping her phoenix feather quill in the inkpot. "I don't know when they'll get them, but I can at least write." She signed the letter, then drew her wand, '_Abditus ROT13_' she said to encrypt one, '_Abditus Marauder_' to encrypt the other. "There," she said, making notes and folding the two parchments. "All ready for the Headmistress' journal."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, September 6, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, History class: 10:13  
_**------------------------

Mattie yawned; Professor Binns was somehow even more boring in life than he was in death. She jerked up when he called her, "Miss ... Wayne, is it?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Perhaps you can tell us of the Elf-Goblin war of 1162, hmm?"

She stifled another yawn, "Sorry, sir, it's been a stressful few days. I haven't followed ancient history all that much." She stifled another yawn, "I'm better with more recent... err..."

"What would you consider '_recent_', Miss Wayne?"

'_In for a penny..._' she mused, "Seventeen hundreds on, primarily."

"Ah, that's right, time travel," Professor Binns mused. "How do I know you aren't lying to us?"

"I'll ignore the insult," Mattie said, as a small gasp went around the room. She drew her tan wand, tossing it to the professor. "If that government exists on this planet right now, I'll eat that wand."

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 8, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 16:26  
_**------------------------

"...so I held the door for Wayne as I left the loo, and..."

"'alf a tic, Miss Frobisher," Tonks said, starting up along with Professor Flitwick. "What did you just say?"

"I said I held the door for Wayne as I left the loo," Samantha Frobisher said. "There was someone else in a stall, and I did my business and washed up. Malfoy was in the loo, she had her bag open and was casting '_follicus extensis_' on her hair in the mirror as I left and Wayne came in. The loo in my car wasn't working, a sign on it said so, you see, and the door was locked, so I had to find another." She frowned slightly, "Most of the loos were out of order that day, I wonder why?"

"I'll look into it," Tonks said, making a note. "Who was the girl in the other stall?"

"No idea, but she was crying about something. I offered to help, but she said she'd be fine. After that, I went back up two cars to my compartment, and then left the train, up to the castle in the carriages, and we had the welcoming feast. Was this helpful?"

"Very much so, Miss Frobisher," Tonks said, canceling the truth charm. "I hope you have a good weekend. If you're feeling all right, you can be off, and thank you."

After Frobisher closed the door behind her, Professor Flitwick said, "A break in the case."

Tonks nodded, "A witness that can place Wayne with at least two other people at the same time, and one of them tops Wayne's enemies list." She waved the parchment that Sprink and the others had drawn up. "We can account for Umbridge, and this is too sneaky for her, anyway. I still want to run down who the girl in the stall is, and why the other girls' loos were locked out. We don't have any proof it was Malfoy, or what spell or potion, if any, she used on Wayne. It's not illegal for a girl to fix her hair. Still, its progress to add to my report." She pulled her new laptop over to her, adding, "I hope you have a good weekend, Professor, and thanks for your help."

"My pleasure, Miss Tonks."

------------------------


	5. Week Four, Third Year

------------------------  
Author's notes: Editing, suggestions, bitching and general kvetching by Ghost in the Machine.  
------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
5 – Fourth week, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Monday, September 18, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 09:34  
_**------------------------

Callista glanced at Tonks, who shook her head. "Thank you, Miss Lycombe, I believe that will be all. Please give this pass to Professor Croft." The fifth-year tucked her hair back, walking back to class as Tonks crossed off her name. "This next one should be fun, Miss Malfoy." She shoved her chair back as she stretched, her joints popping. "I'm going to visit the loo first."

"Narcissa wished to be present," Callista admitted. "I shall assemble everyone, then."

------------------------

"Please come in, Miss Malfoy," Tonks called as Callista escorted the second-year in. "Now, I'd like to state that this meeting is being recorded by an Unchangeable Quotes Quill as you see, and you are allowed a parent or relative and solicitor to be present. Do you have any questions so far?"

"I would like a copy of this session," the solicitor said, passing over his card.

"Once we have concluded questioning all the females on the train," Tonks said, making a note. "That will probably be the end of next week or so, if that's all right?" The solicitor nodded, Tonks continuing, "Now then, we're in the Staff room of Hogwarts, and today's date is September 18, 2000, it's twenty after ten am. Present are Callista Vector of Hogwarts, Nymphadora Tonks of the DMLE, Miss Lucille Malfoy and her legal guardian, Ms. Narcissa Black. Also present is Mr. Roger Webster, solicitor for Miss Malfoy." Tonks took a deep breath, "Miss Malfoy, for the duration of this session, I'm going to put a truth charm on you, which will also help your memory. We've permission from the court (she passed over a sheet of paper) for this. I'll remove the truth charm today; we're only concerned with the train ride to Hogwarts on the first, nothing else."

"I think not," Mr. Webster said, taking the paper and twirling his Bismarck mustache. "We have an order forbidding the use of any form of spell or charm on my client." He passed over another sheet of paper, "As you can see, Mr. Percy Weasley and Ms. Dolores Umbridge have signed for the court."

"Drat," Tonks said, and Mr. Webster smiled, "It's not supposed to be easy, now. Any questioning of my client will be done here and now, in my presence, unless..." his voice turned silky, "You're prepared to charge my client?"

Tonks thought fast, "Not at this time, but I did have a few questions. Miss Malfoy, if you would please give your full name, and let's start at Platform 9 ¾..."

------------------------

"I refuse to answer under Article five," Miss Malfoy said with a glance at her solicitor.

"Miss Tonks, do you have any evidence regarding my client, or is this simply a fishing trip?" Mr. Webster asked, the quill still industriously scratching away.

"We have evidence placing your client in the same loo as the victim, Miss Wayne, at the same time," Tonks said, raising her hand. "I presume you'd like to see this evidence?"

"You took the words from my mouth," the solicitor said. Tonks nodded, motioning them to a large, circular scrying table as people rearranged themselves around it. She waved her wand, and the area around the loo's mirror appeared, rippling a bit. Lucille Malfoy appeared in silence, bag open on the sink, wand in her hand as Mattie Wayne appeared in the mirror. She said something unknown to Malfoy, who replied with a sneer, then grabbed her bag and vanished. A yellow flash of light showed, and the scene ended.

"That's all you have?" the solicitor asked in disbelief. "It's a poor recording of my client fixing her hair, certainly not an illegal act."

"Miss Malfoy said something to Miss Wayne, I'd like to know what it was," Tonks said. Lucille glanced at her solicitor, who nodded. "Wayne greeted me with 'Malfoy', I replied with 'Wayne', she continued on to a stall while I left."

"And the flash of light?" Tonks asked.

"A light fixture," Mr. Webster replied with a shrug. "GNER has had maintenance problems, unless you're planning on blaming my client with stopping-up toilets?" He stood, "I believe we are finished here. Please remember, neither Hogwarts or the DMLE is to interrogate my client without my presence." He bowed and ushered his clients out.

------------------------

"Merlin," Tonks whispered, staring at the scrying table. "I thought that would get her."

"At least you've permission from Dumbledore and Bones," Callista said. "They know what's about. At least you didn't have to get it from Umbridge or Weasley."

Tonks shuddered, "How did we end up with those two?"

"We weren't going to get everyone we wanted in the election," Callista pointed out. "Umbridge squeezed in through name recognition and the Prophet, same as that great prat Weasley."

"At least his pa got into the Parliament, although his meetings with the muggles must be interesting." Tonks shoved back from the table, "Who's next?"

Callista patted her shoulder, "Having met Arthur Weasley, I'd agree," and swiveled the list about. "Next is 'Morton, Julia', a firstie Gryff. I'll fetch her." Tonks shook her head, pulling over her list and drawing a hesitant line through 'Malfoy, Lucille', then adding a question mark.

------------------------

Callista rapped on the classroom door, "Excuse me, Professor Lupin, I need to borrow Mr. Morton for his sister's questions."

Remus smiled, "Certainly. Off with you, Mr. Morton." As Arthur put his things together, he continued, "Now, in the last quarter of the fourteenth century, starting in 1371, Scotland's King Robert the Second... "

------------------------

"Please come in, Miss Morton," Tonks called as Callista escorted the two in. "You must be her brother. Please, have a seat, and I'd like to state that this meeting is being recorded by an Unchangeable Quotes Quill as you see, and you are allowed a solicitor as well as your brother to be present. Do you have any questions so far?"

"Yes, my name is Arthur, and I'd like a copy of this session, please," Arthur said.

"Once we have concluded questioning all the females on the train, as I can't stop and restart the quill," Tonks said, making a note. "That will probably be the end of next week or so, if that's all right?" Arthur nodded reluctantly, Tonks continuing, "Now then, we're in the Staff room of Hogwarts, and today's date is September 18, 2000, it's ten after eleven am. Present are Callista Vector, Nymphadora Tonks of the DMLE, Miss Julia Morton and her brother, Mr. Arthur Morton." Tonks smiled, "Miss Morton, for the duration of this session, I'm going to put a truth charm on you, which will also help your memory. We've permission from the court (she passed over a sheet of paper) for this. I'll remove the truth charm today; we're only concerned with the train ride to Hogwarts on the first, nothing else."

Arthur took the sheet, examining it, "I'm not happy with a truth charm, and I know who Albus Dumbledore is, but who's Amelia Bones?"

"Why is a bartender signing court documents?" Julie asked. She explained, "When I came over with Mattie and Tomas to shop a week or so ago, I met Mr. Dumbledore in the pub, he was dressed as an innkeeper."

Tonks snorted, "Albus has always been ..."

Callista said, with a glare at Tonks, "Albus Dumbledore, after retiring as Headmaster, decided to concentrate on reforming our legal system. He is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, our judicial system. As far as why he is dressed as an innkeeper," she sighed, "He believes people will talk to their publican more easily. As far as Amelia Bones, she was formerly head of the DMLE before being sacked by Minister Fudge. Both eminently qualified, and both were elected last month as one of fifteen jurists."

"I'm still not happy with casting a spell on my sister, but if it's OK with her and will help find Mattie," Arthur grumbled, adding, "I reserve the right to object to any question."

"No worries, mate," Tonks observed, adding, "Don't forget, I'm going to cast the same spell, and ask the same questions of my own sister when we work down the list to her." Tonks smiled, casting '_Veritas anima_' and saying, "No reason to be nervous dear. Now then, your full name, and let's start at Platform 9 ¾..."

------------------------

"I can't believe he... criticized my investigation like that," Tonks said.

"At least he had the courtesy to wait until his sister had left," Callista said. "Mr. Morton believes in standing his ground, he's in my Arithmancy class." She sighed, "I don't think he's right on everything, but you will have to get someone else to question your sister."

"Oh, right. Conflict of interest."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, September 21, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:10  
_**------------------------

The Headmistress rapped her gavel, "Please, let's come to order. Has anyone any luck in finding a time-travel spell for Miss Wayne?"

Professor Binns snorted, "I care not for the chit. She dared to call me in class! I have a mind to whip her for cheeking her betters!"

"I hope you did not," Professor Flamel said, glancing in alarm at the Headmistress. "Not only is her discipline my responsibility, but she is easily the most powerful of the students here. Also, please remember that to her, we are dead and gone; she rightfully cares for her friends and relatives. We are simply temporary hosts."

"Which brings up another matter, Nicholas," the Headmistress said. "Gold. Whilst we can support one more person for a while, I think it is only fair that Miss Wayne pay a bit toward her upkeep."

"And how do you propose she do that? She has no kin that would acknowledge her in this time, and dares not sell her knowledge to the highest bidder." Flamel sighed, "I will broach the subject, if worse comes, I shall pay her expenses myself."

------------------------

Professor Flamel looked up from his roll, "Miss Wayne, please see me after class." She nodded, "Now then, we were discussing alchemical reactions between the brass of the cauldron and ..."

------------------------

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Mattie asked, Nicholas throwing down his quill. "Yes, Miss Wayne. The question of finances arose this morning in the staff meeting. I am aware that you have no relatives in this era that would pay your expenses, still, we must cover some of your costs."

"I actually do," Mattie said, "They just aren't aware of me. What would you require?"

Nicholas shrugged, "A bit of gold, or silver? I have no idea where you might get it, though."

"I have a few resources," she said, adding, "Ask me no questions, please. Would tonight be adequate?"

"Tonight? But..." Mattie raised her hand. "Ask me no questions."

------------------------

'_Precious metals_' Mattie mused, floating in the asteroid belt as her Ring scanned. It 'pinged' her, and she flew toward the small rock a few hundred thousand miles away.

------------------------

"Will this cover my costs, Professor?" Mattie asked as she levitated the rocks in. "I've got one I need to smelt, might I borrow a cauldron?"

"Where did you get those?" Flamel asked.

"This is about two hundred pounds of gold and silver," Mattie replied, ignoring the question. "I think it would raise fewer questions if you were to simply put these on the Slytherin house accounts. After I've gone, use the funds to help out members of the Snake's Den in financial trouble."

Flamel nodded, "And the other?"

"Currency, professor, I've figured out a way home, so I've got shopping to do." She kicked the desk-sized rock, "Almost pure tungsten."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, September 20, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 08:42  
_**------------------------

"...Well, if there's nothing else," Minerva said.

"I have a comment to make to the lot of you," Alastair said. People turned to look, "I know you think I'm just a barmy bit of felt, but I recall what I said to each of you during your Sortings, and I must say I'm ashamed of you. ASHAMED! Here Miss Wayne has been gone for some three WEEKS, and you STILL haven't figured out her location! Well, I say shame on you!"

"If you know where she is, then TELL US!" Severus growled.

"You must figure it out first, Severus. I did discuss this with the Baron and the Ghost's council, and they said I could give you a hint." The Hat started to whistle.

"Th' ghosts know where she is?" Tonks blurted.

Alastair stopped whistling, "Of course they know, you pink-haired dunderhead. However, they can no more give the secret up than I can. Now, my advice for you, stop doddering about off-duty in broom closets with your flea-bitten paramour. As for you, Mr. Lupin, screw up your alleged Gryffindor courage and _propose_! It's not like she'll turn you down." Alastair started whistling again as Lupin and Tonks looked at each other, wide-eyed.

------------------------

"Well, I feel a right idiot," Filius said, glancing at Tonks and Lupin, who were walking separately. "I've never heard Alastair whistle before."

Croft stopped short. "That's the clue!" she whispered. "Anyone recognize it?"

"Popular music?" Severus snorted. "Hardly."

Lara looked about, "Harry?"

"Sorry, I favor muggle jazz myself," he said. Sinistra had staggered back to her tower and bed, "Tonks? Excuse me, Tonks?"

"Allow me," Severus said with a smirk as he stalked over to the oblivious couple, "Miss Tonks!" he hissed, and she jumped apart, "Essence of wormwood! Infusion of monkswood!"

"Interesting combination," he whispered. "There is a question, Miss Tonks. What was the Hat whistling?"

"Eh?" She blinked, "Bridge Trolls, Time like water. What'd I miss?"

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 23, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:10  
_**------------------------

"Professor Flamel?" Mattie asked, "Just to let you know I'll be off planet this weekend, doing a bit of shopping for my project. I should be back in time for Monday's classes."

Flamel spat tea, "Off... planet? How?"

"Sorry, professor, I can't answer that," she said primly. "Nor can I take someone along, as you haven't been exposed yet. Sorry." With a nod, Mattie walked back to the Slytherin table.

"You've put Flamel in a right state," Anne said. "What'd you tell him?"

Mattie sipped her tea; making a face. "I told him I was going off planet to shop this weekend, and he couldn't come along."

"What about one of us?" Augustus asked.

Shaking her head, "The professor is responsible for you lot, I won't have time to keep an eye out for you, and you've not been exposed yet."

"Exposed to WHAT?" Melanie asked.

Mattie thought for a minute, "Other life," she finally answered.

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 23, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 19:50  
_**------------------------

Mattie pushed back from the table, checking her bag and saying, "I've got to get going. See you lot Monday."

"_Please_ take me with you," Anne begged, clutching her arm.

"I'm sorry, Anne, I really am," Mattie said, gently detaching the girl. "I can't, and you know why." She took a step back, and cast an invisibility spell on herself before taking a last look and phasing through the wall.

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 23, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Grand Market, Temple of the Lantern:  
_**------------------------

"Greetings," Mattie told the attendant, touching her Ring to the courtesy Battery. "I am new in town; may I get a room for a night or two?"

(Of course, Honored Lantern,) it replied. (How else may this unworthy being assist you?)

"Banking services and starship brokers," she replied. "Please send the information to my room terminal, but for now," she yawned, "A soft bed in my room, please."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 24, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Grand Market:  
_**------------------------

Whistling to herself, Mattie walked the alleys of the Grand Market, wearing a freshly replicated ship suit instead of her Hogwarts school uniform. She was aiming generally for the 'electronics' section of the Market, but was making a slight detour through the 'ship chandler's' section on her way there.

(Lookie, lookie! Nice hot slave, warm bunk on long cargo run! Only three hundred grams!)

Mattie turned as the nude slave screamed in agony, writhing on the pole she was chained to, a glowing collar around her neck. Frowning, she advanced toward the grinning slaver, who suddenly lost his grin when he saw the Lantern insignia on her suit. He started to babble, (Nice hot slave, you keep, free slave, you have, you take!) and tossed Mattie the slave's control chip, quickly hustling his livestock inside and closing his doors. In a minute, he had lifted his ship off, while Mattie examined the slumped girl.

"Now what the bloody hell am I going to do with you?"

The slave lifted her eyes, "English? Did I just hear English? Oh, my god, are you from Earth?"

Mattie snorted, "Yeah. Looks like I have a slave now." She started looking around the abandoned shop, holding up bits of cloth. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Cassidy. Cassidy Yates, class of 23..."

"Whoa," Mattie said, "You're a time traveler?"

"What do you mean?" Cassidy asked, hanging by her wrists. She managed to struggle to her feet as Mattie tied one strip of cloth over her waist, another over her breasts.

Mattie sighed, "Relatively speaking, it's 1379 on Earth right now, I got sent back from the early twenty-first century, and you're from the twenty-fourth?"

"Thirteen-when?" Cassidy squeaked. "Oh, my god, my folks must be frantic!"

"Tell me about it," Mattie grumped.

------------------------

"So what do I do with you?" Mattie asked the kneeling Cassidy, as she sat in the small outdoor café. "Aside from getting you something better to wear."

"I have swimwear at home that's smaller," she grinned, then sobered, "I'm still marked as a slave," she said, touching her collar. "If you want to keep me, and I hope you do, you can dress me as you want, but the law says I need to be registered as your slave by sundown, Mistress."

"I really don't like this whole 'slave' thing," Mattie complained. "Why can't I register you and then free you?"

"I've heard it's harder and more expensive to free a slave than to create one, Mistress. I've only seen one slave I thought was freed, and she still wore her collar under her ship suit. You can ask at the municipal building, the one with the green dome." She sighed, "In any case, we need a ship to get back to Earth, unless you wanted to sell me off," she added bitterly.

"Right," Mattie snorted. "Remember your history? This is the Middle Ages right now, with the Black Death and the Crusades. Steel swords and wooden carts pulled by horses are high-tech to them."

"Horses?" Cassidy squeaked, "Like big four-legged... animals?"

"Horses. I agree, we need a starship," Mattie said, "Now, think about this answer very carefully, Cassidy. You don't want to reveal the future to me, but can you help me get a good, reliable starship? If we can get one, my plan is to somehow build a time device to get us both back to where we need to be."

Cassidy opened and closed her mouth, drumming her fingers on her knees. She slowly said, "They'll be antiques to me, museum ships a thousand years old. My brother is the one that was constantly tinkering with..." she glanced at Mattie, "Well, his."

Chuckling, Mattie replied, "It's something in the male gene, I think. My older brother is the same way, as are my schoolmates." She offered her hand to Cassidy, "Partners?"

"Partners."

------------------------

"So how do I free you?" Mattie asked. "Why can't I just use my magic power ring to snip that thing off your neck?"

"You don't, Mistress, it's linked to my nervous system somehow," Cassidy replied bitterly. "I think it violates the law if you do. Once a slave, forever a slave, I was told."

"Right," Mattie snorted. "You believed them? You'll have that thing off your neck as quickly as I can arrange it. The way I see it, worst case, we'll have to act the whole mistress/slave bit, but it's for the unwashed. Once we're on that ship, I'm going to depend on you – I've never been on a starship before."

"That's right, early twenty-first century," Cassidy mused. "I don't remember, have you landed on the moon yet?"

"About thirty years ago, and we haven't officially been back since," Mattie snorted in disgust.

Cassidy regarded her, saying, "Okay, I think I know where you are. By the way, who are you, Mistress?"

"Just keep calling me Mistress until we're out of this mess, but my name's Mattie Wayne, of Gotham City."

Cassidy's eyes grew huge, she gobbled, "W...Wayne?" and fainted.

------------------------

"Geez," Mattie grumbled, dragging the unconscious girl to the corner fountain and holding her head under. After a few seconds, Cassidy started to thrash, and Mattie let her up. "Feel better?" she asked.

"M... Mattie Wayne?" Cassidy asked, and Mattie nodded where she crouched next to the fountain. Cassidy spun, stuck her head underwater, and screamed. Pulling her head up, she took a deep lungful of air, then dunked her head and screamed again.

"That little performance warrants an explanation," Mattie commented as Cassidy pulled her dripping head from the water.

"I can't give you one, Mistress, except to trust me," she panted. "We must do three things, Mistress. First, you must register me as your legal slave in the galactic database, this must be done immediately. Secondly, you must equip me as a slave, and _then_ we can look for a starship. We can get this done before you return for classes at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? How did you..."

"_Please_, Mistress! We don't have much time, and my registration must be done _today_!"

"I _really_ don't like this. I don't _want_ to own another person, I need a partner, not a cringing slave. Please, could you at least stop calling me 'Mistress'?" Mattie said, starting to rise from her crouch.

Cassidy lowered her voice, and Mattie crouched again, "In private, yes, I'll try to remember, but in public I must." She tapped her collar, "You have my chip, so legally I'm your slave, Mistress. I don't remember much interstellar law, I slept through those classes, but I do remember 'law ends with atmosphere' and 'law ends with enforcement'." She shrugged, "Once we clear orbit, we can talk, but until then, I _must_ look and act your slave, and you _must_ act the Mistress, no matter how distasteful you find it." She glanced at the sun, "For now, I heard my former Master tell clients changes of ownership must be done by sundown, so you _must_ register me as your property, and quickly, otherwise I'll default to the State's ownership." She shuddered, "_Please_, Mistress, just trust me for now. Remember, it's the building with the green dome."

"I'm still really not happy with this," Mattie said, standing.

"Be a bitchy Mistress at the clerks, it's expected," Cassidy whispered, standing and taking her position behind Mattie.

------------------------

Cassidy was led off as Mattie filled out forms. There was a scream of pain, and then she was led back to kneel quietly by Mattie's side, head down. The smarmy bureaucrat said, "We don't get too many Lanterns registering slaves. Why..."

Mattie leaned over the desk, and said menacingly, "I won a bet. Shut up and tell me how to free her, and get that collar off."

"Free her? Why would you want to..." he shut up at Mattie's glower, punched keys and gave her a chip. "Your registration of your slave honored Lantern. As far as freeing her, she will remain a slave until the correct forms are submitted along with a fee of ten kilograms of tungsten are paid in the capital, and two weeks have passed. She must also have some form of financial support, and as a slave, she cannot enter into contracts. Does she have any marketable skills?"

"Ship's engineer and pilot," Mattie ground out.

The clerk looked at her record. "She does not have any of those certifications; she's a barbarian from an uncivilized world. If you want to amuse yourself that she can support herself, honored Lantern, I would suggest you put her to work studying, when..." he smirked, "...she's not warming your bunk."

"Where can I find these study materials?"

"You're really going to do that?" the clerk asked, surprised. "It's your tungsten to waste, then. The shipmaster's guildhall with the black dome has that material, but you'll have to chain her outside. Traditions and all that, a stuffy lot. You'll have to go tomorrow, they've closed by now."

"Her collar?"

The clerk tisked, "You really want her free? She's not worth it, you know. At most, a twelve hundred gram slave, and you're spending many, many times her value?" He sighed, "Your tungsten to waste. Once you have all the proper forms filled out and fees paid, then I would enter a certification for her in her records. That will keep her from being sent right back to the block, although it's more expensive to certify a slave."

"I'm not concerned with the money."

"You're willing to spend tungsten like pareek't juice, I agree. In any event, upon payment of a fee, you can have her manumission recorded. Then, and only then, can her collar be removed. I would strongly suggest tipping the operator heavily if you don't want permanent neurological damage to the slave. There's only one place in the capital that can be done, but you've got a road to travel before then."

"Why can't I cut it off with my ring?"

"If you want her dead, be my guest. Go ahead, look it up. There are faster ways to kill a slave, though, and you would be violating our law which you're supposed to enforce. Really, don't they teach you anything when they give you that ring?"

Mattie closed her eyes, counting to ten; then snatched up her chips. "Thank you, honored clerk," she forced out, then snapped, "Follow me, slave!" as she stormed out of the building.

------------------------

"All right, I've done what you wanted, no matter how revolting I found it," Mattie told a kneeling Cassidy as she sulked in a cafe. "Why do you want me to tie you up?"

Cassidy said quietly. "You're not tying me up, but I need to appear like all the other slaves on the street. Take a look, Mistress; they're wearing slave belts and leashes, so I must, if for no other reason than I won't stand out."

Mattie grunted, eying the passing crowd, inspecting the slaves in it. "All right, I can understand a disguise, but why do you want a gag?"

"_Please_, Gran...Mistress; I'm afraid I'll say something I shouldn't. I've already caught myself several times today."

"All right," Mattie said, as Cassidy sighed in relief. "I talk at night; too, it's a solution to a problem I can see. I can use a silencing spell at school, but here, I'm concerned about you choking in your sleep." She eyed the passing slaves, adding, "I seem to be at a disadvantage, here. Now that we're so intimately connected, I think it's only fair we find out about each other. I'll start, my full name is Helena Martha Wayne, and I'm a third year at Hogwarts. Yours is?"

"Whatever Mistress wishes, I am her slave," Cassidy said, sweating slightly.

"Surely you must have had a name, a _full_ name, before you became a slave," she said softly as Cassidy squirmed. "I'm not asking who's going to win the next World Cup. I'm simply asking for your name, your full name. It's a partnership thing, you understand. You simply piqued my curiosity, screaming when you heard my name. Surely it's not that unusual a name, Wayne, is it?"

"No, Mistress."

"So how does a random twenty-fourth century schoolgirl recognize someone long dead to her? Recognize her well enough to go into hysterics? I don't think I'd have the same reaction if I were to meet, oh, Abraham Lincoln, for instance."

Cassidy sweated, pulling at her bound wrists as Mattie sat back, tenting her fingers. "Crap. Crap, crap, and more crap. You _would_ use Lincoln, wouldn't you?" Cassidy looked up from the tavern's flagstones, still pulling futilely at her bound wrists. "I've always hated that 'I'm waiting' stare," she admitted. "This is why I want a gag, that, and I've always been kinda, well, rather..." She looked at the implacable gaze, "... well, submissive, and a masochist, so this has actually been rather a lot of fun..." she noticed Mattie's tapping fingers, "Oh, gawd, if you must know, my full name is... Cassidy Wayne Yates."

"Hmm, a very interesting middle name. Married?" Cassidy shook her head, "This puts a different card on the table, my loose-lipped partner, and we now have a different relationship." She regarded the kneeling girl, "I'm going to indulge your desire for a gag, and it will be the most effective available. You will be wearing it until we are off this planet. After that," she shrugged, "we'll see how the cards fall next hand. Are we understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," Cassidy said with a small grin. Mattie snorted, and she added, "Aside from that, I'll need a slave's ship suit for vacuum work, and I'll need something for day to day wear." She grinned, "I don't mind going topless, Mistress, I actually prefer just wearing a skirt."

"I don't, but since you insist on calling me 'Mistress', slave, you'll wear what I want."

"That's the spirit, Mistress!" Mattie glowered at her, and she grinned, tilting her head, "Down the alley with the yellow awnings, Mistress."

"Joy," Mattie said as she stood, Cassidy following a pace behind and to her left, head down. '_If only you knew_,' Cassidy thought.

------------------------

Mattie paused to look about the alley, how the merchants all stayed in business when they all sold basically the same merchandise confused her. Cassidy sidled up, still the proper slave, and whispered, "Ahead to the left, Mistress, the shop with two redheaded slaves on pedestals." Mattie nodded slightly, and strolled along, window shopping.

Stopping to feel the calf of one of the identical twin slave girls chained on the pedestals, Mattie frowned as the girl whimpered. She fingered the amazingly short shift the girl wore; then strolled inside.

(Greetings, Mistress!) The shopkeeper said. (How might I assist you today?)

Mattie put on an arrogant attitude. "I want a good, tight gag for this mouthy slave, several months of silence should teach her to obey her betters. I don't want to hear so much as a whimper. Then, I need..."

------------------------

Mattie kicked the door shut, "Here we are, home sweet home." She released Cassidy's hands, reaching for her gag. She moved away, shaking her head, and Mattie asked, "You want the gag left on? You sure?" The girl nodded emphatically, miming sniffing her armpits. "Okay, toss me that shift you're wearing, I'll run it through the replicator while you're in the shower." Cassidy pulled it off, holding it to her nose and pinching it, Mattie chuckled, asking "What about your belt?" Cassidy shook her head again, miming a key turning, then pointing to her crotch. "Okay. Why don't you leave the keys in the head, you can unlock what you want. We'll both suffer while we're out, I don't want to figure out more than _one_ set of alien plumbing." Cassidy rolled her eyes as Mattie asked, "You figure out the three seashells yet?"

------------------------

Cassidy was kneeling, looking out the window at the city when Mattie left the shower. She took a chair next to her, "Normally, I'd say we need to talk. However, since you insisted on wearing that gag, it's going to be more of you listen when I talk." Cassidy shrugged and nodded as Mattie growled in frustration. "I really, really don't like owning you. My plan is to free you and get that damn collar off as soon as I can." Cassidy nodded, holding her hands in prayer. "Outside that door, we're both playing a part in your little comic opera. That means I'm the bitchy owner, you're the slave, and _you_ seem to be the only one that likes her part." Cassidy shrugged, tugging at her collar as Mattie eyed her. "God only knows why. I'll promise you, though, that if I have to beat you, it's because it's part of the act, and I'll apologize now, ahead of time, is that understood?" Cassidy nodded, "Two other things. I'll never abandon you, I'll keep an eye out for you," Cassidy crossed herself, "And two, I'm going to show my displeasure." Cassidy eyed her, "No, nothing like that, but you don't like that little white shift?" The girl shook her head, holding two fingers an inch apart, and Mattie smirked, "I thought so. I'm going to search out, and you're going to wear, the most gawdawful, ugly, hideous pieces of slave fashion on this misbegotten planet I can find."

------------------------

The city clerk entered the bar to shouts of 'Bargo!' He took his normal seat, asking, "A bit of news. You heard about the Lantern that drove Trego L'macala off the planet?"

One of his companions asked, "Should we buy her a drink or kill her?"

"Buy her a drink. Trego always was a waste orifice," a third said.

Bargo snorted, "Did you hear the funny part? He left a slave behind and the Lantern registered it!"

Beings guffawed, one asking, "Really? A Lantern with a slave? Doesn't that break one of their precious 'rooles'?"

"That's not the funny part," Bargo said. "First thing she does after registering it is ask how to free it. That's the funny part." He turned to the patiently waiting slave, telling the kneeling girl, "My usual, slave, and be quick about it."

"Yes, Master," she said, touching her board. Rising, she went to the bar, eyes gleaming, whispering, "Did you hear? A Lantern has a slave that she wants to free!"

"No!" the bartender whispered, her collar glowing in the dim light. "Source bless them both," she said as she poured Bargo's drink.

Every free person in earshot, save one, hooted at the very concept. The lone holdout, a red-skinned Korugarian female, stood, dropped two small coins to pay for her drink and quietly left the bar. '_The Gods are watching and have lead me to this place. If the ring-bearer proves false, I can but hope they allow me to be the instrument of her destruction_,' she thought.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 25, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Grand Market, Temple of the Lantern:  
_**------------------------

Mattie knelt, shaking Cassidy, "Wakey, wakey. Why didn't you want to share the bed, there was room for two?" She stretched, then held up a finger, "You're a slave and we're on planet," as the girl tugged her collar, then pointed out the window. "Whatever. By the way, get your ship suit, it's in the closet. I was wondering why yours was different than mine." Cassidy tugged her collar again, but got the suit, pulling it on. There were a series of clicks, and she stopped as it was examined. "The belt connects to the suit, for waste disposal. Continue, please." She shrugged into the rest of the suit; it was white with yellow stripes down the sides, slave's colors, to the armpits, then clear arms and shoulders to the ring that latched just below her chin, over her collar. She adjusted her wrists and ankles; kneeling and clipping her ankles, then her wrists together. She flopped about on the floor, a secured slave.

"Interesting..." Mattie said, examining it, then test-fitting the helmet, piling her hair inside. Rolling her over, she looked it over, "Airtight seal on the helmet..." Cassidy nodded emphatically, and Mattie found the release, Cassidy's pants whistling through the air holes in the tight black mask. "Sorry," as she was rolled back over. "Air tubes up the spine, the suit locks in back, controls on the upper back where your slave can't reach, can't have her trying suicide, now. Release key on a tether..." The neck ring was unlocked, then relocked, as were her wrists. "Clever bit of engineering. The slave can work, but she's still secure."

Cassidy nodded, and Mattie sighed, "You are one crazy, masochistic slave, and I'm even crazier to go along with this." She unlocked the suit, "Skin out of that and go get a shower. Your study guides came, we can look at them later, I'll start looking at ships."

------------------------

"Happier?" Cassidy waggled her hand, and knelt. "Good," and Mattie pointed to two wrapped packages. "I'm sure that you'll be pleased to know I've found two absolutely _adorable_ bits of fashion for you, they make a muumuu look like the height of Paris. You'll look _fabulous_ in them." Cassidy whimpered in horror as Mattie cackled.

"Second thing, I'm tired of playing charades with you," and slapped the desk. "Amazing what the replicator will make if you ask it right. This is a legal pad and pencil, I hope your handwriting's OK. You can play deranged masochist slave all you want, as long as the job's done. I'm going to get a shower, any questions?"

_Don't log out, please. Can I spend some money? _

"Why not?" Cassidy tapped her collar, "Oh, right. What on?"

_Something my oh-so-cruel Mistress will inflict on her **poor** slave. No more than 100 grams or so. The game's afoot, partner!_

"Partner? Is that the way you want to play the game?" Cassidy nodded, underlining 'partner'. "Okay, you're on, _partner_. There are two allegedly 'chocolate' protein shakes on the table for breakfast. How do you plan to drink yours?"

_The usual method is for the tube to be unlocked from the mask, the mixture poured down the slave's feeding tube. Take your time, Mistress; I don't know how long it will take to get the new toy. _

"Hmf. I should have left you on the pole, but nooo... Twenty minutes?" Cassidy rocked back and forth, the neck on her tight mask forbidding head movements.

------------------------

Cassidy knocked and entered, waving her boxed 'toy' and the legal pad. _First of all, only thirty-five grams! Cheap! Secondly, it's **NOT** chocolate, and it sure isn't the Hershey's I remember! _

"It went okay?"

_There was a bit of trouble getting the right angle to pour with this mask. It's nasty stuff, almost as bad as slave gruel. I needed something to eat, though. I've left the list of ships on the screen, with a list of reasons – we want the third ship. I don't know if you want to actually see the others or not. _

"Why wouldn't we?"

_Ever bought a used flit? (lined out) vehicle? Same type of salesbeing, unless you know what you're doing and can talk the talk, you're going to get... _

"I get the picture, and you can't because..." Cassidy tapped her collar, nodding, _Legally, socially, I don't exist. Whoopee. Ready to trade surprises? How bad a dress can it be, really?_

Mattie grinned, "You wanna play slave, partner? We'll have to leave in thirty minutes."

_Take the legal pad, please. I'll need some help tightening and adjusting it. Can I borrow a knife to open the package, Mistress? _

"Allow me, can't have a poor slave commit suicide, now." The wrapping was slit on the bulky package and handed back.

------------------------

Cassidy smirked to herself, '_How bad of a dress could it be_?' she wondered, as she unlocked her belt, withdrawing the catheters. 'Full discipline from your slave!' it promised. '_Mistress thinks she's got me with a full-head, deprivation model mask? I'll give her a masochist!_' she thought. '_I'm a size six, but this is a size five and a half, should be nice and tight_,' she thought, inserting the various appliances and locking them into place with a silent 'Oof!'. She started to tighten the integrated buckles, working her collar above the integral leash. She regarded herself in the mirror, rigidly erect in the tight black material. Her waist was drawn in as tightly as possible, encasing her from crotch to head, black shackles locked on her wrists and ankles, silver chain dangling from her throat below her glowing collar.

------------------------

'_Well, I wanted it tight, and that's what I got_,' Cassidy thought, her partner calling, "Cover your eyes and get out here, we need to go!" '_Easily enough done_,' as she locked her eyes closed and groped her way out.

"Oh, my, is that a corset?" her partner said, "That is some getup. Arms out and I'll dress you, then we can go buy a ship." She touched the heavy material on her neck, framing her collar, "Can you breathe all right?" She nodded, feeling the tugs of the dress being fitted; then her eyes were uncovered.

"Like it?"

'_It's yellow! Pale yellow, almost white, and ... ruffled!_' she thought. '_This is a superbly ugly dress, and it's even shorter than the shift! I can't wear this!_' She felt a tug on the leash, and her partner was collecting her notes. She tried to bend her head, but couldn't. '_How is this thing staying on? If I breathe wrong, it will slide down around my waist!_' A tug on the leash, her partner was saying, "When we go out that door, our fun and games stop, the real work begins. We've got to depend on each other, and play our parts to perfection, agreed?" Cassidy nodded. "Okay, joke's over. Strip out of that crap and pull your shift on. We're taking public transit part way. I want to take a look at that corset later, though."

------------------------

Cassidy knelt as Mattie lounged, rereading her notes. She nudged her partner, and waited as she unfolded, standing at the tug on her leash. They left the car, walking up stairs and hailing a hover cab, where she was unceremoniously locked in the trunk. '_Well, I am cargo_', she thought philosophically. "D'Nit yards," she heard the cabbie say as they stopped.

------------------------

"How may I help you?" the sales being smarmed.

Mattie yawned, giving a tug on Cassidy's leash. "I was looking for a small ship, just to flit about and maybe do a little trading," she said. "Daddy loaned me one of his slaves, she was one of those dirty people down with the engines, an assistant something on a liner, and she was on sale. She's to look about and give an opinion, and if it's the right one, she'll be rewarded. If it's one I don't like, I'll kill her and come back with another." She released Cassidy's hands from behind her, leaving her leash to drag in the purple grass. Thrusting the legal pad in her hands, she waved, "Off with you. Remember what I want, and what Daddy wants, wench." She fanned herself, "I'm so fatigued by this work! While she crawls about, we can talk."

Cassidy watched her partner walk off with the sales being, rubbing her wrists. '_I can't believe I'm the One_!' she told herself, looking about. '_Now where is... there! The ship Great-Grandma names after me. ME! Little old nobody Cassidy Wayne Yates; the geek people laughed at in school, the stimulus to an economic and political empire. The empire that built Earth's first orbital elevator, ending the doldrums of the twentieth century, and all it requires is... my life._' She sighed, '_To work, and make it look good. It won't happen on it's own_.'

------------------------


	6. Week Five, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
6 – Fifth week, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 24, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Slytherin common room: 08:44  
_**------------------------

With a heavy heart, Karen Bundy pinned the tryout notice on the board. "All right you lot!" she called. "Tryouts for this year's Quidditch team, we need a Seeker and a Beater for the primary team, Chaser and Keeper for the reserves."

"We _have_ a Seeker, it's Mattie," Sprink called.

"But she's not here now," Karen said. "We don't know where she is, so we've got to plan as if... as if she's not coming back."

Graham Pritchard masked a smirk of triumph behind his textbook.

------------------------  
**_Monday, September 26, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Front lawn: 07:22  
_**------------------------

With a low whine, the small white ship banked over the Great Hall, coming to a gentle landing and causing the stablehands to calm the horses.

"So this is Hogwarts," Cassidy said as she shut down systems.

"Yes, and I really wish you could tell me how you know," Mattie said, rising. "You want to come in?"

Cassidy shook her head, "No thanks. I'm risking enough with you, with those people? I don't dare. I'll be fine; I'll take the first mate's cabin. Later, now shoo, Mistress." She flipped a toggle, and the boarding ramp lowered with a whine.

------------------------

Mattie touched the control on the landing strut, the ramp raised to the astonishment of the onlookers. Mattie smiled, asking, "Did I miss anything?"

"There's someone inside!" Mattie turned to see Cassidy on the flight deck, who waved at the crowd.

"Yes, she was in trouble, I picked her up and brought her home. She'll be making a jump after me; Cassidy's originally from the twenty-fourth century." She grinned wryly, "So now I know what it's like when you want to know, and can't." Waving people on, she asked, "Leave any food for me?"

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, September 26, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Muggle studies: 13:10  
_**------------------------

"...and I see that once again Miss Wayne couldn't be bothered to show for class," Professor Carstairs sneered. "She doubtless feels this class is beneath her."

"She's MISSING, you... twit," Sprink said, blushing as the tiny Professor rounded on her. "Did I hear you correctly, Miss Tonks? Did you just call me, your learned professor, a... oh, what was that word? A twit, I do believe you said." She tisked, "You came from SUCH a fine family, the Blacks. Your dear, dear auntie, Bellatrix, and her in-laws, the Lestranges. Such a fine family, still, you can't be blamed for your mother's mistake in marrying so far below her station." She tisked again, "Marrying a filthy muggle, gutter trash, the lot." She smiled, "Go ahead dear. Draw your wand on a Professor. Do it, I'll have you expelled before the day is out. As it is, you've two week's detention with me for backtalking and disrespect to a professor, and fifty points." She raised her voice, "Pass up your essays on Muggle stupidity, and Miss Tonks, yours had best be the full two feet in length."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, September 27, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 08:44  
_**------------------------

"So how do we find Miss Wayne through all of space and time?" Filius asked. "I confess, I am at a loss as to the method."

Alastair sighed, "Filius, I had such high hopes for you. I thought for certain this would be a snap for the clever house. Very well, one more clue. She's at Hogwarts."

"WHEN?" Severus thundered. "There is no way to go forward..."

"Severus, I've spoken to her, she passes on her best wishes, and that is _really_ all the clues you'll get from me."

"You said 'spoken'," Lara said. "Past tense. She's in the past at Hogwarts."

"Jolly good!" Alastair said. "It only took you four weeks and three very broad hints from me. Disappointing, but you got the job done eventually, in your slow, plodding way. Speaking of which, how is your investigation, Miss Tonks?"

"I know Malfoy did it, I just can't _prove_ she did it," Tonks said, banging her head on the chair back. Remus reached over and rubbed her hand.

"Perhaps you ought to dig for a bit more evidence," Alastair said. "I can't believe I have to lead you lot by the nose. Miss Wayne already has a solution and is making her preparations to return, and you are all sitting about like headless chickens! This is _allegedly_ the finest wizarding school in Europe, when you can't solve a simple puzzle like this? Shame on you. Go on, meeting's over, hopefully your students will have the answers you lack."

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 29, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Hawking, Conner, & Schwartz office: 08:33  
_**------------------------

Callista stepped out of the cab after Hermione, wondering what to do next. She started when a voice said, "You look a bit lost, Ms. Vector."

"Oh, Mrs. Grayson!" She smiled in relief, lowering her voice, "Lara and Harry sat me down to brief me, and I've been relying on Hermione. This isn't at all like London, I thought I was prepared, but..." she looked about, "I've heard stories, is this a safe neighborhood?"

"Until about seven tonight, or after dark, whichever comes first," Dick said. He grinned, "Don't worry, you're with us, Gotham is _our_ town." He opened the doors to the lobby, "Ladies?"

------------------------

"Good morning, everyone. This session is recorded, this is the reading of the last will and testament of Mr. Bruce Wayne. Today is September 29, 2000, at nine am, and my name is Andrea Conner, of Hawking, Conner, and Schwartz. I will now open the sealed will." The older blonde took a letter opener, efficiently slitting the seal on the cardboard box.

"I, Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Manor, Gotham City, being of sound mind and body, do establish this as my Last Will and Testament." Mrs. Conner cleared her throat, "To my beloved wife, Selina Kyle Wayne, if she has not predeceased me, I name as my executrix, and leave my estate, excepting those items which I specify below. There is a separate, sealed letter I leave for her." Mrs. Conner found the letter, passing it down the conference room table to Selina.

"To my beloved son, Richard Grayson, I leave the Wayne Corporate tower, land therein, and all rights so attached. I leave with him 100,000 shares of Wayne stock, and five million dollars. There is a separate, sealed letter I leave for him."

"To my beloved daughter, Helena Martha Wayne..." Mrs. Conner looked about, "Is Miss Wayne present?"

"She is ill, and her physician did not want her to travel," Selina said.

"Hopefully it's nothing serious," Mrs. Conner said, "I have a sealed letter for her, will you accept it, Mrs. Wayne?"

"I will, Callista, do you mind delivering it?"

"Of course not," She took the letter as it was slid to her, Mrs. Conner continuing, "To my beloved daughter-in-law, Barbara Gordon Grayson, I leave the Gotham Clock tower, land therein, all rights so attached, the amount of five thousand shares of Wayne stock and one million dollars."

"To my good friend and private attorney, Sheila Hawking..."

------------------------

"You've a hundred thousand pounds and land in the heart of London, Hermione," Callista said. "Why were you so excited about that?"

"It's the building where my parents have their dental practice," she explained. "I'm their new landlady!"

"It's not like Bruce to hand out money like that," Lois asked. "How did you merit it?"

Hermione blushed, "Ah, I developed a potion that..."

"That fixed a marital problem Bruce and I had," Selina said. "Shall we grab lunch, and then go shopping?"

"Sounds good to me, but..." Hermione looked about.

"Don't worry, ladies, you're with us," Selina smiled. "Gotham is _our_ town. I'm a bit depressed, I need a bit of retail therapy, I suggest we do it up right, a fabulous Italian meal and then we hit the shops!"

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 30, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Modern Languages: 09:32  
_**------------------------

"Now then, Miss Wayne, your translation of the seventh chapter of Book Three?"

Mattie stood, cleared her throat, and recited, "These things being achieved, while Caesar had every reason to suppose that Gaul was reduced to a state of tranquility, the Belgae being overcome, the Germans expelled, the Seduni among the Alps defeated, and when he had, therefore, in the beginning of winter, set out for Illyricum, as he wished to visit those nations, and acquire a knowledge of their countries, a sudden war sprang up in Gaul. The..."

"Very good, Miss Wayne. Your interpretation?"

"Caesar believed that after he had defeated the French and thrown out the Germans, his troops could relax in their winter quarters." She asked, "Sir, who are the Seduni, the Swiss?"

"No, they are a tribe in the upper Rhone valley." Professor Burkhart smiled indulgently, "How are things done, Miss Wayne? Isn't Latin the _lingua franca_ of business?"

"Er, no, sir." Mattie paused, and the professor chuckled, he had grown used to these pauses. "Latin is only used by priests, for church services, and for spellcasting. English is the common tongue, or professional translators are hired for critical business meetings and legal documents." He made a small motion, and she continued, "A phrase might be misunderstood as insult by one party, but have a common meaning in the original language. A translator bypasses that problem."

"Bypasses?" he asked.

"Sorry, sir. A bypass is a road that diverts from a main road."

"Ah, thank you, Miss Wayne. Please be seated. Mr. Thompson, the next?"

------------------------

"All right, I can understand Latin. I mean, we cast spells in it. I'd hardly call it a 'Modern' language, though," Mattie groused, "There's that famous saying about Latin, and Greek?"

"Peas?" Anne asked, adding, "What saying?"

"Thank you," Mattie said, spooning some on to her plate. "Latin is a language, as dead as dead can be. It killed off all the Romans, and now it's killing me!"

Anne stifled her giggles, adding, "You're so mean..." She looked up, "Hullo. Aren't you..."

"Cassidy. Oh, lord, fresh food..."

"Please, join us," Augustus said. "We've plenty. Haven't you anything to eat?"

"Fresh versus replicated? There's no bloody contest. It keeps the body going, but not the soul, y'know?" She glanced at Mattie, "I was going stir-crazy, and I was hoping for a little company tonight."

"A bit lonely?" Melanie asked, and Cassidy nodded. "My family, well, they're a thousand years away, and Wayne over here is as close as I have to a friend. Talking to a textbook just isn't the same."

"_Talking_ to a book?" Augustus asked, waving his hand. "I know, you cannot answer." He sighed, "Would that you could."

"Nothing we would like more," Cassidy said, and Mattie nodded fervently. "For us, it's the fear that what we say would affect those we know and love. If you were to return home from school, and find that your brothers and sisters no longer knew you, how would you feel?"

"But if we tell you, they would no longer know you," Mattie said softly. "Cassidy knows my future, and I would love to know it. But I can't ask her, and she doesn't dare tell me. I have two brothers, and I lost my father just before school started." Cassidy's head snapped around, her mouth opening and slamming closed. "Oh, _my_," she whispered. Mattie nodded, "She knows my future, my history, and I _can't_ ask her, I don't _dare_."

"I never thought about your worries," Augustus admitted. "I was filled with my own concerns. You do not even know if you can return home, do you?"

"No, we don't," Cassidy admitted. "We've both worked out what we think is a good plan, but there is only so much we can do. We can build a machine to connect, to send us..."

"... to send us upstream, but we don't know if they can do it," Mattie said. "There's the further hop for Cassidy..."

"... three hundred ninety years farther on. If something goes wrong, then, 'poof', we disappear into eternity. History rewrites itself without us. We would never have existed. Pass the bread, please."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, October 1, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Front lawn: 08:48  
_**------------------------

"A bit more, that's it, then it's 'Lefty Loosey'..." Cassidy said.

"'Righty Tightie'," Mattie said, trying to shove the part into place. "I can't believe you're still using that phrase."

"Oldie but a..."

"... goodie?" Anne asked. "I came to see if you needed help."

"Sure, but no spells, please," Cassidy said from above. "Get down there with Mattie, shove up and then twist it right." With a final grunt, it went home, Cassidy calling, "Ten millimeter wrench, please."

Mattie passed it up, "I thought your brother was the one that worked on these things."

"Never said I didn't help him!"

"I still cannot believe I am on a starship," Anne said in wonder, Cassidy calling, "It's an antique pile of junk!" She dropped down from above, dressed in a jumpsuit, collar glowing on her neck. "You help us get these other two converters in place; I'll pay you off with six hundred sheets of parchment. That gives everyone at Hogwarts two sheets for letters to your kin. Deal?"

"A bit more than four, there are only one and fifteen here, but 'tis a deal." She shook hands, Cassidy muttering, "Sorry about the greasy hands."

------------------------

"So what (grunt) does a 'converter' do?" Anne asked.

"Take a step backward, please, you're out of alignment. It converts one form of energy to another."

Mattie said. "Like a waterwheel's mechanical energy being used by a sawmill. She looked at Anne, "You do know what that is, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replied tartly. She froze, "A waterwheel can drive a ... saw, instead of a grindstone..."

"Welcome to the Industrial Revolution," Cassidy said with a chuckle, Mattie shaking her head, "You're confusing water and steam power, but look at her face, and we didn't tell her!" Cassidy looked down, "Anne does a waterwheel freeze in the winter?"

"What?" Anne shook herself, "No, of course..."

"Why?" Cassidy asked. "A true pity I can't take her back with me."

"That's the question you need to ask, Anne, 'Why?' Mattie said. "Can you imagine her at MIT?"

Anne shook herself, "What, pray tell, is an 'MIT'?"

"One of the finest universities in the world," Mattie said. "Only the best and brightest go there, you would do magnificently there, except..."

"Except that I am stuck in the 'Dark Ages'," Anne said with disgust.

------------------------

"Ah, Miss Wayne, I was hoping to see you," Headmistress Oldridge said. She cocked her head, asking "What is wrong, child?"

"Anne," Mattie said, carrying the sheaf of parchment. "She was helping us aboard earlier, and we started to talk." She shook her head as she walked, sighing, "Like a fool, I said she'd do well at MIT, which is a very prestigious university, one of the finest on the planet."

"And she will never see it," the Headmistress said, "Nor will I, more's the pity. What is the parchment for? It's a goodly amount."

"Six hundred sheets, we thought that everyone here could take a sheet or two and write a letter to their descendants. Since you don't know their names, you are not risking the timeline."

"I will distribute them. Can you tell me the name of that person that sent you back to us? I promise you I will not speak of the name," the Headmistress promised. Mattie looked at her, eye raised, then said, "I'll think on it."

------------------------

"Anne? Come on, I'll scrub your back," Mattie wheedled.

"Go away, Miss 'I'm so much better than you!'," Anne snapped.

"Anne, I'm truly sorry. If there was any way to take you, I would."

"A way for what?" Melanie Snape asked.

"Take Anne to the future," Mattie sighed, "Or even just to see it, but it's too risky."

"Risky!" Anne shrieked. "What do you know about risk?"

Mattie threw down her towel. "I know that every word I say, everything I do has to be weighed in terms of how many millions of people might die. Is that enough risk for you? How about this? I would dearly love to sit down with you and tell you everything! Every single war, every single invention over the next six hundred years! There's a girl on that ship from MY future, don't you think I know what you're going through? How I'd dearly love to know MY future? I know she'd like to tell me, but SHE WON'T! Just like I CAN'T ASK, because she might TELL ME!" She snatched up her towel, "I was trying to be nice, I was trying to apologize for hurting you, Anne, because I consider you a friend." She stalked off to the tub, adding over her shoulder, "I gave the Headmistress the parchment, by the way."

------------------------

"Mattie?" She ignored the voice, chin resting on her forearms, feet idly kicking in the warm water. "Mattie?" and she rolled over.

"Sorry, Melanie, I was thinking. Any brothers, by the way?"

"Three. You know of my relatives?" Mattie nodded, "I see his nose in yours."

"This ugly old thing?" she squawked. Mattie grinned, "No matter how much he tries, he can't get his hair clean, but don't tell him that."

"How would I tell him?"

"Anne didn't say?" Melanie shook her head, then dunked her black hair. "We gave the Headmistress six hundred sheets of parchment in payment for her labor. We thought you all could write your descendants a letter, there's enough for each to have one or two sheets. We hope to have our device ready no later than Easter, then we'll carry them through."

"But... 'tis a wonderful idea! Whom shall I write to?"

"I'm not comfortable with releasing names, perhaps you should just address it to 'My beak-nosed descendants,' and go from there," Mattie grinned.

------------------------

_1 October, 1379 _

_Dearest Father,  
My apologies for not writing sooner. I am in receipt of yours of the fifteenth, and I am pleased with the harvest. Hopefully, we shall have enough to carry us through the winter. _

_I apologize for not mentioning this earlier, but I wasn't sure I ought. Please keep this in strictest confidence. The Lord has seen fit to visit us with two young ladies, both from the distant future! One is from the earliest years of the twenty-first century, the other from even further afield, the twenty-fourth! _

_They have been reluctant to disclose the future, and have given good and sufficient reason – that if they were to do so, they would kill many millions yet unborn, including their own kin. I cannot fault them this, I wonder if I might have the strength of character to do so in their place. Still, I confess to jealousy, and shall pray on this. _

_The one, a Miss Wayne, was apparently sent here by cowardly attack when she was ill prepared to repulse it. Whilst she has not said so, and indeed has been naught but gracious to me, it shames me to understand that the culprit is one of our future kinfolk, one Miss Lucille Malfoy. _

_My information comes from the Headmistress, who without Miss Wayne's knowledge, picked up a surface memory when she was newly arrived and still somewhat odd in the mind. As you know, it is a skill newly developed, and while I question the morals of reading another's thoughts, I will not gainsay the knowledge. The Headmistress confessed that she had considered long on informing me, in the end deciding only to release the identification of the villain. Sadly, with the description, it is indeed one of our Clan; Miss Lucille hath our characteristic nose and snow-white hair. _

_The reason for this missive is to inform you that, if all prove correct, and God is merciful, these two young ladies will journey back about Eastertime. They have offered to take letters to our future kinfolk, a most generous offer. I shall pen my own missive to Miss Lucille, and am inquiring if you wish to do the same. If so, please limit yourself to one sheet of parchment. They have asked us only to restrain ourself to two sheets per person. In the event you do write to Miss Lucille, I shall include mine with yours. _

_Once again, please keep this information in the strictest confidence!_

_Augustus Malfoy_

------------------------

_1 October, 1379_

_Greetings, Father and Mother! _

_I am well, and hope you are the same. I am enclosing a potion which should help to heal Grandfather's foot, one drop in pure water to be soaked for at least an hour each eventide. Please continue for a week past the wound healing, I know how Grandfather is! _

_I have most interesting news which must be held in the tightest confidence! We are guesting two young ladies from the future! One, whom apparently knows our distant kin, even joked of our chronic hair problems, saying her friend has the same problem!_

_Whilst they cannot inform us of the future, they did offer to transport letters to our kin. Most kind of them, she even suggested in jest I address it to 'my beak-nosed descendants'! I am allowed two sheets of fine parchment, but I cannot think of what to say! I have until Easter-time to pen this missive, so if you can think of something my poor excuse for a mind cannot, I shall be grateful. _

_Augustus Malfoy offered to deliver me home for the Christmas holiday, I of course insisted that he at least spend the night. Whilst his team is fast, the roads are not safe, and he has far to go to Wiltshire. I shall discuss this more, in confidence when I see you in six weeks._

_Your loving daughter,_

_Melanie Snape_

------------------------


	7. Week Eight, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
7 – Eighth week, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Wednesday, October 18, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 08:06  
_**------------------------

"Found her!" Callista cried hoarsely, reading from the Headmaster's journal, "September first, 1379. At a quarter to five o'clock tonight, the stablehands brought up a young, black-haired girl wearing a short grey skirt. She was unconscious, the hands reported she appeared in midair in a ball of golden light."

She cleared her throat, "Madame Flamel is assuming her care. She reports steady pulse and breathing. We must now wait for her to awaken, to explain her most curious equipage, including two wands."

"In other news..." Callista looked up, "They had a record firstie class, fifteen boys and three girls. What do we tell the students?"

"We have found her, finally. Is there anything else?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, on the fourth, she awakens," Callista mused, reading the entry, "And on the fifth, there's mail! One is addressed 'Wayne, ROT13', whatever that is, the other is to 'Hogwarts, Marauder'." She looked up as Remus started to laugh.

"Minerva, you remember the Marauders?" Remus asked rhetorically, motioning for the letter. "Apparently so does Miss Wayne." He tapped the paper with his wand, telling it, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." From a blank page, words unfolded:

_September 5, 1379 _

_Dear Hogwarts: _

_Well, I'm alive, and after complaining so long about the fourteenth century, here I am! Ironic, isn't it? _

_Now, one thing I don't want you to do is to go off half-cocked on dear Miss Lucille Malfoy. That little bitch is MINE! So, what happened? For those of you who have a bit of interest, she ambushed me in the girl's toilet (sorry, loo for you Brits). I didn't hear the whole spell, as the train's brakes hit right then, but it was 'Chron...something'. _

_Boom, I dropped in the mud (not a way to travel I recommend!), and woke up in the infirmary. I'm in with the Slythies, after having convinced them of my bonafides (great bunch, too!), and I'm trying not to let anything slip. It's tough, though, when they don't know continents exist! _

_I'm going to see if there's a spell that will send me back, otherwise, I'll go the tech route. Somewhere out in this wide galaxy there's a time gizmo I can build! _

_Please pass the other letter on to Tomas and my family, and I'll write again when I know more. Love to all, _

_Mattie_

_PS: Remember, Malfoy's MINE! _

------------------------

Minerva McGonagall marched into the Great Hall, rapping her knife on a goblet, and calling, "Attention, please. We have found Miss Wayne." She waved the parchment, "She sent us a letter, and if you will all quiet down, I shall read it." She nodded; starting, "September fifth, 1379." Screams erupted, and Minerva used the knife again, "If I may continue? Thank you. It continues, 'Dear Hogwarts: Well, I'm alive...'"

------------------------

The Gryffindors were edging away from Lucille Malfoy as she looked about. Sprink called out, "Oy, sis! You wanna arrest this twit while she's still alive? A letter from the victim regarding battery by spell's gotta be good enough."

"It wasn't me! Pritchard cast 'Imperio' on me!" she said desperately.

"And why should I want Wayne out?" he asked. "She was generous to me regarding a debt her first year. What is my motivation?" Pritchard handed his wand to Professor Vector, "Please check the spells, see if I've used any Unforgivables." Malfoy took that chance to run for it, Sprink and the other werewolves transforming and giving chase, catching her just outside the doors to the Great Hall.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, October 18, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 07:46  
_**------------------------

Minerva held her breath as she reopened the Headmaster's journal, paging forward to October. On the first, she found an interesting entry. She cleared her throat, and addressed the assembled staff, "I have a message from Headmistress Oldridge. Apparently Miss Wayne is being very tight with her information. She writes:"

_October first, 1379 _

_Headmistress, year 2000, _

_Whilst I know you have a name, Miss Wayne is reluctant to reveal it. It is a bit unusual in conversation, however, I cannot fault her reason. She requested that this information be held private, I must trust your discretion. _

_Miss Wayne has somehow acquired what she calls a 'starship'. It is a large white six sided box-like thing of about fifty yards in length. She went 'off planet' over this past weekend, I know not where, and returned with this creation and a passenger. This passenger is named Cassidy Yates, a young woman of about twenty years, and is supposedly from even farther afield, in the twenty-fourth century. Given Miss Wayne's understandable fears, they are limiting their conversations; Miss Yates has declined (politely) invitations to sup with us. _

_In payment for a few hours of Miss Anne Bundy's assistance, they have gifted us with six hundred sheets of the finest parchment! They suggest that we use this to write letters to kinfolk in your century, I think this a marvelous idea. They believe they shall have their 'gizmo' (whatever that might mean!) ready by the Easter break, and shall 'play postman' (again, no idea!) at that time.  
__Headmistress Oldridge,  
__Hogwarts School of Wizardry _

"Well, what do we tell the students?" Minerva asked.

"I think only that Miss Wayne's efforts proceed apace, and that some of them should expect to receive mail from their ancestors about Easter," Severus mused. "Have we a class list for that period?"

"I believe so, although we shall have to hunt for it. What is the status of Miss Malfoy?"

Tonks spoke up, "Her solicitor has disputed the letter, claiming forgery. He insists that we produce Miss Wayne as a witness, or he will move to drop all charges. I don't know if we can hold her until Easter, he's somehow arranged for both Weasley and Umbridge to be assigned her case. I don't know who the third judge is, d'you know if there's any way we can contact Miss Wayne?"

"I do not know," Severus mused. "I shall see if the Waynes know of a way."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, October 19, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Doune Castle: 10:13  
_**------------------------

The rider was known to the castle guards, he was admitted to the Royal Sorcerer's presence immediately. He knelt, and said, "Milord, a message," passing a small scroll.

"Excellent," he hissed. "You may go."

"Thank you, milord," stuttered the frightened rider, glad to be allowed out without being turned into a rabbit and eaten. Fortunately, the wizard had forgotten his presence.

"Reveal yourself!" he commanded the parchment with a tap of his wand; then he sank into his chair. '_A time traveler at Hogwarts,_' he mused. '_How can I take advantage of this? I must have her in my grasp_,' he decided. '_Once I have her, I can then play her how I wish. She is naught but a young child, easily bent to my wishes. Yes, that's the first step. Now, who has children attending that school that I might manipulate?_'

------------------------  
**_Thursday, October 19, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 21:35  
_**------------------------

Minerva had gotten into the habit of checking the Headmaster's Journal every few days. Settling down with a good cup of tea, she opened the 1379 volume, flipping to the last week of October. '_Rather like a mystery novel, I don't want to read the conclusion too soon!_' she mused.

_Tuesday, 25 October, 1379 _

_Dear Miss M, _

_When Miss Wayne came to call yesterday, I expressed my frustration regarding your form of address. She explained (after some five minutes of reflection), that you came from a very old, 'pureblood' wizarding clan in Scotland, that you kept a complex chart of genealogy, and she was trying to recall your family tree. However, she conceded it would be safe enough to reveal that you were yet unmarried, and that I could use 'M'. I do not know if this is your Christian or surname, so I will have to be content with this. _

_She was unusually pensive after a conversation with Alastair (I must remember to dust him!); I know that she consults with him. Perhaps he will be more forthcoming with you – she has stated that he does exist in your time.  
Headmistress Oldridge  
_

She turned to look up at Alastair, who was snoring on his shelf. Turning the page, she found another entry:

_Wednesday, 26 October, 1379 _

_Dear Miss M, _

_After the evening meal, I noticed Miss Anne Bundy quietly slipping out after Miss Wayne. Feeling bold, I cast a memory charm on myself as I followed, and I am glad I did, as it was a most unusual evening! _

_Miss Bundy, Miss Wayne and her guest Miss Yates were a bit surprised at my appearance, but received me with all due courtesy. Miss Yates, an attractive young lady of some twenty summers offered me a seat. She apologized for not offering refreshments other than water, stating their menu was extremely limited. After passing about refreshingly cold, clear water, they inquired into my business, offering their assistance. _

_I informed them this was a social call, and Miss Yates mentioned that she thought 'The plan would work, after some upgrades.' They explained that they had come up with a tentative plan for Miss Bundy to move to the twenty first century, but that they would need improved devices in order to carry it off successfully. Miss Bundy was, of course, extremely excited, as I know she has pined for the opportunity. In truth, whilst I am somewhat jealous of her opportunity, they do require my assistance, emphasizing that Miss Bundy must be dead to the world. Their idea requires my skill in Transfiguration, a skill that Miss Wayne cheerfully admits she is sorely lacking in. _

Minerva snorted, '_Some things never change_,' she thought, continuing:

_Their idea requires the sacrifice of a pig, due to an equal 'mass' and 'cardiovascular system'. When I requested definitions of these, they delicately explained that 'mass' was roughly equal to weight, and that an 'autopsy' might be performed. After more long-winded explanations, the two correcting each other, it turns out that an 'autopsy' is an examination of the dead, and the other is one's heart and lungs! I gather a pig's is similar to our own, which offended Miss Bundy, thinking herself insulted. _

Minerva chuckled, imagining the scene.

_In sum, the idea is that we shall transfigure a dead pig into Miss Bundy's duplicate, dress it in her identical clothing, and when all is ready, she shall throw herself off the girls' tower in despair. With great sorrow, we shall bury her (the pig), whilst Miss Bundy herself enters 'stasis' on board ship, there to sleep for six hundred years. _

Minerva guffawed, '_Clever plan_!', and read on.

_Miss Bundy was reassured that for her, the nap would be the snap of a finger. We were very cautiously informed that stasis "stopped time", however, there was absolutely NO possibility of her returning – she would be leaving family and friends, and all she knew forever if she chose to take this journey. History would regard her as having died that night. They also informed us that the future was not all honey, there had been much strife, and horrible wars had been fought, with millions of dead! It was not a decision to be made on the turn of a leaf, that until we transfigured the pig, she could change her mind, and naught would be lost. _

'_Sensible_,' she thought. '_Give the girl plenty of time to decide_.'

_Miss M, I must ask you to keep this conversation privileged to yourself only. The next bit served to shock and horrify both Miss Bundy and myself. I have no doubt that it will you, also. _

Minerva steeled herself, and read on.

_Miss Bundy, in an effort to change the subject, inquired after a beautiful silver necklace Miss Yates wore, asking if she might get one. This question evoked a strong, almost violent reaction from the both, saying 'No, you don't!'. Miss Yates is a slave, and she is locked into a collar they cannot remove. _

_After we collected ourselves, Miss Wayne stalking about like a caged beast in her fury, they explained that freeing Miss Yates was a long, expensive and complex process, encumbered by treaty and law, and enforced by many years of trade and custom. They might fail, but were still determined to make the attempt. _

_It seems that a school trip Miss Yates was on had been attacked and overcome by pirates, and despite valiant attempts at defense, the crew and passengers had been sold off to slavers. She was unaware that she had somehow traveled back in time a thousand years until she met Miss Wayne, and had not seen her schoolmates, as she had been bought and sold several times over the years. Her previous owner had been frightened into gifting her to Miss Wayne. (Very understandable, she can seem most lethal.) They are forced to play Mistress and Slave, a situation neither likes, but must live with temporarily until they can create their device and return to their proper times. _

_Miss Yates did mention that groups controlling different stars have different policies and law regarding piracy and slavery, using a phrase 'law stops with enforcement'. Miss Wayne clarified that it was like the situation now, where different lords have different laws, and without a strong king, there was no central law. Treaties between stars also play a part; if they were to go where slavery was banned, existing treaty may enforce her status on Miss Yates, or it may not. _

_Both Miss Wayne and Miss Yates did confirm that existing law in their home times prohibited slavery. Miss Yates primary problems at home would be social, as the collar is instantly recognizable. It did explain another question we had, the differences in dress. Due to her situation, Miss Yates is forced to wear yellow, the 'slave colour'. I must remember not to mention this to Professor Binns, the Hufflepuffs would never recover._

'_That's when Binns is from? I never knew_!' Minerva thought.

_Once again, Miss M, I must entreat you to keep this matter silent. While we will never meet, I feel a kindred spirit with you. _

_On a lighter note, Miss Wayne and Miss Yates inform me that while we cannot hear, we shall be able to see each other on the day of transference. While you cannot write me, perhaps we can identify each person with signs of some sort? While we will be 'grieving' the recent 'death' of Miss Bundy, I think this is something we can do. _

_Awaiting the day I will see you, I remain,  
__Headmistress Alberta Oldridge_

------------------------  
**_Friday, October 21, 1379: (Relative)  
Sol system, asteroid belt: 18:04  
_**------------------------

Cassidy and Mattie drifted, tethers attached to their ship suits, as they guided another asteroid into the cargo bay. "I figure that small one will give us three tons of tungsten, about forty all together," Cassidy said. "You want to practice piloting this time while I smelt?"

"Sounds like a plan," Mattie said. "We should be able to afford a stasis field for the auto doc."

"They're expensive," Cassidy warned, as she followed Mattie back into the cargo bay. She touched the switch to seal the hold and repressurize.

Mattie watched the indicator lights as Cassidy secured the cargo. The bay sealed with a thump, and the faint hiss of gas could be heard in the white-painted compartment.

"Before we start, Mistress, could you unlock my suit first?" Cassidy asked, "I've really gotta pee."

Mattie floated over to the hatch, waving Cassidy through, "We're back to that, are we? All right, but I thought we had this settled, we use 'Mistress' and 'slave' only when we're 'onstage'. Once we clear atmosphere, I don't want to hear it."

Cassidy pouted, "I guess my wearing the corset's out of the question?"

------------------------  
**_Friday, October 21, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, approach orbit: 19:27  
_**------------------------

"Please state your registration, cargo and purpose," the bored controller said over the comm.

"The _Cassidy Yates_, registered in this system, one personal slave, no other cargo," Mattie said as Cassidy knelt behind her, head down for the benefit of the controller's view. She grinned to herself as Mattie continued, "Purpose is ship upgrades and repairs, control."

"I'm reading a Power Ring, _Yates,_" and Mattie replied, "That's mine. Do I have clearance?"

"Of course, honored Lantern!" the frightened controller said. "Please take vector Charlie three to bay 1186, and welcome!"

"Thank you, control. _Yates_ out." She said dryly, touching controls, asking, "How'd I do?"

Cassidy stood and stretched, saying, "Close enough for government work, Mistress." Mattie groaned, "Another phrase that will not die. It takes us longer to land than to get to the planet!"

"Isn't space travel fun?" Cassidy asked, adjusting her tiny 'dress' and trying to pull it lower. "Couldn't you have gotten one a little longer?"

"Want the yellow one instead?" Mattie asked with a grin, and Cassidy shuddered. "Go get your fancy black mask; I want to see how that goes on. Knowing you, my demented masochistic slave, you're going to want it nice and tight, so you'll need my help."

------------------------

"Thirty seconds to landing," Mattie said. Cassidy braced herself against the bulkhead. Slowly, carefully, Mattie aligned the ship with the faded marks on the bay, switching off the antigrav a second too early and causing a 'thump' as they landed. "Sorry," she said as the boarding hatch signaled. She left the flight deck as Cassidy secured herself to the bulkhead, a proper slave.

------------------------

(I see nothing out of order), the Customs inspector said, returning the record chips. (That was a rough landing, however. It might have damaged bay equipment.)

"I am here for maintenance work," Mattie admitted. "I'll add that to the list of things to inspect. Will you be doing the pre-launch inspection?"

(Very possible. How long will you be staying?)

"I'll only be here a couple days, and I certainly want to be a good citizen," Mattie allowed. "Perhaps you might hold on to a deposit toward any possible bay damage? Also, where might I contract for a bay umbilical? Water, power, the like."

(I can arrange that, ship-mistress. Together, your docking fees will be... three hundred seventy five grams, payable in advance.)

Mattie counted coins, "A bit more toward the damage my poor landing caused. You have been most kind, dock master...?"

(H'resh'fl, ship-mistress. You have my com-code if I might assist. Good day.)

Mattie saw him out, raising the boarding hatch. She strolled to the flight deck, releasing Cassidy and shoving her through the hatch. Once the hatch was closed, her hands were released, and she dived for her legal pad, writing:

_How much did you give him?_

"Five hundred grams. Is that the right bribe?"

She gave a thumbs up, and wrote:

_He'll love you for at least two days, Mistress. You overpaid a bit, it wasn't that bad a landing. Twenty percent instead of twenty-five is normal. Still, he'll smooth the road. He's a T'Cha, they can be bought, but they're honest politicians, it's their sense of honor. He'll also give you an honest inspection, and handle the dock-apes. Make sure you add the landing system to the inspection list. Can I use the head first? _

"Go ahead, but the bank van is due any minute to pick up our deposit. I'll wait for you in the cargo bay; don't forget to secure your hands."

_Who's the masochistic slave here?_

------------------------

"Any suggestions as to contractors?" Mattie asked as she checked her equipment. The white low-cut shift they argued over had yellow trim, a waist-high slit up the back, allowing Cassidy's hands to be secured to the belt she wore. The dark metal of the tight belt showed plainly through the thin material.

She pulled her blonde hair back, trying to get trapped hair free, and wrote:

_No, you can always go with the dockyard contractors, Mistress. They'll have a kickback arrangement, but they'll be the fastest in getting it done. You can save some money by hunting out contractors, but that wastes time we don't have. Six of one... _

"... half dozen of another. Another moldy phrase," Mattie commented.

_Has the bank picked up the deposit? _Mattie nodded, Cassidy added, _You've paid off the dockmaster, so we should be good, and the contractors are bonded by the port. Leave the ship open and you can go shopping!_

"Puh-lease," Mattie said, taking the legal pad and securing it.

------------------------

"Dock master!" Mattie called, "A moment of your time?" The salmon colored alien paused, (Yes, ship-mistress? How might I assist you?) The small tentacles on his mouth waved as the two approached.

"I was hoping you might have a recommendation for an honest contractor, Dock master," she said. "I was hoping to get this work finished by tomorrow. I know you're extremely busy, but I was hoping you might point me in the right direction, as I'm by myself." She ignored Cassidy, kneeling at her feet in the dust.

(I happen to be going that way myself. Perhaps I might introduce you?)

Mattie smiled, "Most appreciated, Dock master."

------------------------

(Yes, we can accommodate you, ship-mistress, on most of this. Unfortunately, the stasis module for the auto-doc is out of stock at the moment.) The contractor, not surprisingly another salmon-colored alien, paused regretfully.

"Pity, I was hoping to get this done on this trip. Perhaps you know another that might have the unit in stock? When it comes to my health, I want only the best, you see."

(Quite understandable. I believe I know where I might locate one. It would, unfortunately, carry a slight rush charge.)

"Perfectly reasonable, as long as the rest of the work is completed and inspected by my deadline." Mattie paused delicately, "Perhaps a small deposit might help to expedite matters?"

(On the total of ... twelve hundred kilograms? I think a deposit of forty kilograms most reasonable, ship-mistress.)

"Unfortunately, my slave is weak; twenty is all she can carry. They are yours, of course. Perhaps another twenty tomorrow morning, and the final amount when the honorable Dock-master signs off on the inspection."

The contractor grunted, (Agreeable. Head up, girl.) Cassidy raised her head, keeping her eyes down. (Yes, she is a weak one. Perhaps you would like to exchange her for another?)

"I thank you for the suggestion, but she is guarantee on a wager. A poor slave, I admit, but I might as well use her." Mattie addressed the slave, "Head down, girl, are you getting ideas above your station again? Back straight, chest out, and stand, so I might pass this gentlebeing his deposit." She reached for the bag Cassidy carried about her waist.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, October 22, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, near bay 1186: 07:51  
_**------------------------

Mattie rolled over on the thin bed, wrapping a blanket around her as she woke to the sun entering the room. Across the room, Cassidy rolled to her belly in her sleep, a blanket wrapped around her where she had chained herself. Mattie had offered to share the bed, but Cassidy had shaken her head violently, glanced around the room, then attached her leash to a ring and resecured her wrists behind her. '_I'm going to have to talk to that girl_,' Mattie thought.

------------------------

(Good morning, Mistress), the slave behind the counter said. (Yourself and a slave for two days in room 16, that will be three grams), tapping the slot in the lockbox.

"I paid two grams last night."

(I am certain you did, Mistress, but my Master's records show you owing three grams, one for each of your two days, and one for your slave for two days.)

"I don't have time to argue," Mattie said, waving Cassidy over and digging in her coin pouch. She extracted a coin, "I'll have to return to the ship for more. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Here's one," dropping it in the slot.

(Mistress, if you would please chain your slave here, as a guarantee?) Mattie sighed, and knelt Cassidy against the wall, snapping a ring around her neck and pocketing the key, and Mattie squeezed her shoulder as she left.

------------------------

Cassidy waited as the slave worked behind the desk. After five minutes or so, the Master came out and noticed her. (Another guarantee slave?) he asked jovially. (How long has her owner been?) He walked out from behind the desk, forcing her head up. (You're a common slave. I can get fifteen hundred grams for you.) He looked at his slave, (Clearly abandoned. What room was it?)

(Room 16, Master, but her Mistress has only been gone five of fifteen...)

(Nonsense, a good thirty time-parts. She's clearly abandoned the slave.) He used a master key to unlock Cassidy, grabbing her leash near her collar and telling his slave, (I'll be at Far'kar's selling her off. Thirty time-parts, now!)

(Master, I beg of you, please...) is the last Cassidy heard. She hung back, and the Master snarled at her, (Reluctant, eh? Perhaps this will teach you to move when your betters say move!) lashing her calves with the end of her leash chain.

------------------------

Mattie waited impatiently as the slow moving truck passed, then sprinted across the street, running down the street and dodging vehicles and pedestrians. '_I thought I was in better shape than this_' she panted, arriving at bay 1186. She waited impatiently for two workers with an antigrav to carry something up into the cargo hatch, dashing past them into the crew cabin, and down the passage to the Owner's cabin. She forced herself to stop, and carefully entered the combination to enter, and then another to open the safe. Pulling down a bag, she stuffed about six kilos in, closing the safe and locking the cabin behind her.

------------------------

Cassidy was terrified. Appraised as 'an ordinary slave', she had been sold for sixteen hundred grams, her chains increasing her price, and was now being carried deep below ground.

------------------------

Mattie re-entered the cheap 'hotel', only to find Cassidy missing. "Where is my slave?" she asked the trembling slave.

(Mistress was gone more than thirty time-parts, so Master declared her slave abandoned.) The slave swallowed nervously, edging as far away as the leash would allow. (Will... will Mistress be paying for her room?)

Mattie glared at the slave, then threw three grams on the desk, "Paid in full. Where is your Master, and what does he look like?"

(Master is a large humanoid, with facial hair and wearing gold in both ears), the slave replied. (Master has gone to Far'kar's Slave Emporium to sell the abandoned slave, three streets south, one west. This slave is sorry, Mistress.)

"Not your fault," she said, taking to the sky on a shaft of green light.

------------------------

"There we are..." Mattie crooned to herself, seeing the large display of caged slaves and yellow awnings where business was conducted. '_Time to make an entrance_' as she landed in a blaze of green light, asking, "Is this Far'kar's Slave Emporium?"

(It is!) smarmed an employee. (How might I assist you, noble Lantern?)

"Your manager, please, and would you point out the owner of Tik'mit's House of Rest?"

(The honorable Tik'mit himself is taking his pleasure right over there, noble Lantern. Might I assist you further?)

"I would appreciate the courtesy of two things. Tik'mit seems to have sold my slave to you; the transaction was within the last sixty time-parts. Please make sure she is not mistakenly sold to another. Secondly, my ship's comm is off line until the repairs are complete. Would you call Dock master H'resh'fl?"

(Most certainly, honored Lantern!) Mattie nodded, and strolled over to join Tik'mit, who was eying her. "Honorable Tik'mit? Might I join you?"

(Please do, honored Lantern. How might this poor servant assist you?)

"A bit of an accounting problem. I stayed at your fine establishment last night with my slave. Upon leaving, I discovered that my room had not been credited, no doubt due to coins sticking together. It happens all the time, I'm sure."

(Of course, of course. Which room was that, honored Lantern?)

"Room 16. I didn't want to walk all the way back to my ship, it's being worked on, you see." Tik'mit swallowed nervously, "Now, I went to pay for the room, three grams this time, only to find out I had spent more money than I anticipated in this fine marketplace. I was greatly embarrassed, of course, so I told your slave I would return shortly with more cash, since you run a cash-only policy."

Tik'mit swallowed nervously, as Mattie continued, "Upon returning, I was surprised to discover that my slave had been taken. I am holding her as guarantee on a debt, so it would be embarrassing to lose her, you understand. Now, as I have given your slave a total of six grams and lost my slave... Ah, Dockmaster H'resh'fl! Please join us, how goes your day?"

(Perhaps the room charges might be waived?) Tik'mit said nervously, Mattie replying "Ah, but your charges were one gram each night for me and half a gram each night for my slave. I do not wish to cheat you, and the slave cannot be blamed when the coins stick together."

(Of course), the Dockmaster said. (Is the slave in question available?)

"I did ask for her to be set aside. How much did you receive for her?"

(Sixteen hundred grams, including her chains), Tik'mit said, (But I thought she was abandoned! It happens all the time!)

(I am certain it does, but perhaps you might invest in a new time-piece?) H'resh'fl said. He bellowed, (Bring out the slave in question!)

Cassidy was brought out, Mattie asking, "Dock master, does she match my cargo listing?"

H'resh'fl nodded, (She does, I recall her face-mask.) He mused, (The slave house is not at fault for buying the slave mistakenly. I believe that if Tik'mit refunds the sixteen hundred grams, and the overpayment so they have a bit of profit, matters should be settled."

"I am out three grams, plus the damage to the slave's shift."

(My apologies for the error, perhaps this might help to purchase a newer shift), Tik'mit offered a fifty gram coin. '_Better a coin than my life_!' he thought.

(This worked out well. Let me update the slave's records while she washes in the fountain), the Dockmaster said, motioning over the manager. Mattie gently kicked Cassidy, and she scrambled to her feet, dashing over to the fountain.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, October 22, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, near bay 1186: 10:01  
_**------------------------

(Matters proceed apace), H'resh'fl said. (Have you the second payment?) Mattie waved the bank chip from her earlier deposit as he pointed at a shop, (That would look good on your slave.)

"Hmm, Not very practical for work, though," Mattie said, regarding the wispy-thin white wrap, then eyeing Cassidy. "Come along, slave, I won't let you get this one dirty," she grinned, pulling Cassidy inside.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, October 23, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Bay 1186: 06:05  
_**------------------------

Mattie rolled over in her bunk and yawned, then ducked into the head for a quick shower. Somewhere on the ship a saw whined, and beings cursed. Cassidy was still tightly gagged and bound, insisting on it until they reached orbit. She rolled over, wrapped in her blanket on the floor, still fast asleep. Her hands released, Mattie asked "How is my favorite masochist today?"

Cassidy shook her head, still half asleep. _Coffee? Food?_ She wrote on her pad.

As she unlocked the gag, Mattie commented, "You're making this more complicated than it needs to be. Besides, I got you a pretty dress yesterday."

_You can wear it, Mistress! _

"Not my size," she replied, waving a replicated drink. "This supposedly tastes like strawberries, or would you prefer the blueberry one?"

Cassidy shrugged, and took the 'strawberry' one. _I hope the blueberry was better_, she wrote. _We really need to improve the food on this bucket_.

"About the same as the chocolate, unfortunately. First things first, though. Let's get the doc fixed up, and if we have time we'll see what we can do about the food. Quick shower, your shift is in the head." She waved the gag, "Ready for silence again?"

_Nice and tight, please, Mistress! _

"You're crazy, you know that? I don't know why you seem to like wearing a gag." Cassidy shrugged, and knelt.

------------------------

"I want you to keep an eye on the work crews, especially that auto-doc. Our lives depend on that thing, so I'm going to volunteer you." Cassidy nodded, shackling herself. "Ready, my little spy?"

------------------------

"There you are!" Mattie said, asking the Contractor, "Could you use another warm body? I need to take care of some business, and I want this slave to work."

(I'll put her to work. Slave, check off this inventory, and see if it's all here. We have a deadline for your Mistress' ship, and I won't miss it because of you!) He leaned over and released her hands, thrusting forms at her.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, October 23, 1379: (Relative)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Bay 1186: 19:44  
_**------------------------

The engine noise died away, Dockmaster H'resh'fl saying, (I believe that concludes our tests), passing her a clipboard with the appropriate signatures.

"The auto-doc?"

(We tested it on your slave for several hours. The machine recorded a complete image, a test, to the subatomic level, as it should.)

"You could not test it without using a live subject?"

(Not and gain a full image. It repaired several small problems she had and then recorded the image, so you will always be able to restore her as a perfect slave. Why are you concerned, she is only a slave.)

"She was used without my permission," and H'resh'fl nodded, (Ah, I thought you were aware of the testing procedure. My apologies, still, there is no damage to the slave, and the auto-doc tests out fully functional.)

"Then I believe this is yours," Mattie said, passing the contractor a bank draft. He said, (A pleasure doing business with you.) Mattie stopped him, passing him a few coins, "A drink for your crew, on me, for the wonderful job they did."

(Most appreciated.) He ejected a chip, (Your receipt, engineering logs and other bits of foolishness. Come back again soon!) His tech exited the ship, Mattie sending Cassidy up the gangplank. Hands were shaken again and Mattie boarded her ship, closing the hatch.

------------------------

Cassidy knelt in the common room. She waved her pad, _All security is back to default, Mistress! I can't get close to anything!_

"Computer, authenticate me, then disable barrier on engineering for slave Cassidy Yates." The computer chirped, as Mattie sat in the command chair, touching the controls. "Computer, run full diagnostic on all recent repairs, priority engines and life support." She moved to the helm as Cassidy took the engineering station. "I wanna get out of here!"

She scribbled on her pad: _Life support looks okay, give the engine diagnostics another thirty seconds, Mistress._

Mattie returned to the command chair, then back to the helm, plotting her course. Cassidy gave her a thumbs up, she called, "Hang on, I'm lifting!"

------------------------

(Orbital control to _Cassidy Yates_).

"_Yates_, go ahead Orbit."

(Please state your intentions.)

"Sorry, Orbit. I just had some work done on the FTL engines; I wanted to run a final diagnostic. It's about half-done, another thirty or so minutes, then we're off. Can we get an exit vector now, or would you rather we wait?"

(Destination, _Yates_?)

"Alpha Centauri, Orbit."

(Lonely place, _Yates_. Outbound queue to the marker, and good sailing.)

"Thank you, Orbit. _Yates_ out."

------------------------

Mattie threw Cassidy some keys. "Unlock what you want; you've got first call on the shower. I'll be on the flight deck."

------------------------

Cassidy padded onto the flight deck. Mattie swung around in the command chair, "We're out of atmosphere, so there's no Mistress and slave now," she reminded her partner. "We're about four hours from Earth; I'm taking it slow and easy with these engines. Now, what's the deal with the gag and stuff?"

Cassidy grinned, working her jaw muscles. "I know I'm a bit screwed up" and Mattie snorted. "Well, a psychiatrist isn't available to slaves, and I don't dare ask anyone at Hogwarts. Besides, we don't have the time. My theory is that it's part habit, part conditioning, part some weird comfort zone. It feels better to leave things locked on nice and tight, and there's a reassurance that something dangerous won't happen, I'm safe if I'm all locked up tight." She shrugged, "Besides, my mind thinks they're comfortable. The slave conditioning, 'I need to be bound'; it's like... I feel something wrong, like getting dressed without stockings. It's weird, I know."

Mattie shrugged, "As long as it doesn't endanger us or the mission. You know they tested the auto-doc on you?"

"They closed up my mask and locked me in something for what seemed like five minutes. My time sense is weird in that thing, and I couldn't move a muscle. They took me out and said 'successful test', and put me back to work."

"They said they recorded a complete image of you to the subatomic level."

Cassidy shrugged. "Since I'm only a slave, that made sense, and I feel fine. What's done is done, I'm not worried. You can't kick up too much fuss over their using a handy slave for that."

"I'm not happy with it, but I bitched a little because I wasn't asked about using you." Mattie said. "While you were playing spy, I got a buoy that we can deploy in Earth orbit. So while I'm dragging through classes, if you could see what you could find, maybe even some new replicator patterns?"

"Better food? Certainly, Mistress,"

Mattie glared, "Enough with the 'Mistress'. Find out anything while you were spying?"

"Sorry, it's a habit. By his definitions, he's an honest contractor. I got a good workout from him."

------------------------


	8. Week Ten, Third Year

------------------------

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
8 – Tenth week, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Tuesday, October 31, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Wayne Enterprises, Chairman's office: 08:00  
_**------------------------

With a soft 'pop', four people appeared in the outer office. The blonde secretary looked up calmly (This _was_ Gotham), "Good morning, and Happy Halloween. Do you have an appointment?"

The elegant woman in the expensive suit smiled and gestured, "Indeed we do. I am Mage Zatanna; this is the Mage Merlin, the Demon Hella, and Jason Blood, with the Demon Etrigan."

"I don't see Mr. Etrigan."

"We share a body," Jason said.

"Ah. One moment, please," she asked, smoothing her skirt as she walked down to Selina's door. "Mrs. Wayne, your eight o'clock appointments are here."

"Show them in, please. We're not to be disturbed."

"Of course, ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Wayne will see you now."

------------------------

"Thank you for coming," Selina said, offering her hand.

"Etrigan was intrigued, and so am I," Jason commented as he shook. "What can we do for you?"

"One of Mattie's ... schoolmates, a Miss Lucille Malfoy, has sent her back to the fourteenth century using a Dark Spell. I grow impatient, it's been two months."

"We shall inquire," Hella said.

Jason said, '_Gone, gone, the form of man, arise the demon Etrigan!'_" Etrigan's claw touched Selina's wrist, a golden charm bracelet appeared:

"_Call upon me with your need,  
Malfoy's soul is a true lead!_"

Merlin, impeccably dressed in a business suit, added, "That item is in the Cave, Mrs. Wayne. Zatanna and I will be by later tonight." With a soft 'pop', they vanished.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, October 31, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 08:02  
_**------------------------

With a soft 'pop', four figures appeared before the Head Table. Minerva rose as Zatanna smiled politely, her voice carrying clearly. "I am the Mage Zatanna; this is the Mage Merlin, the Demon Hella, and the Demon Etrigan. We inquire on behalf of Mrs. Wayne, regarding her daughter and Miss Malfoy?"

"Oh, _shit_!" someone said, several people casting '_Protegro_'. As the Demon Etrigan stalked toward Gryffindor, Arthur jumped the table, grabbing Julie and pulling her behind him. He wasn't the only one. All over the Great Hall, people rushed to protect siblings in other houses, while people screamed and prayed.

"D... demon," Julie stuttered. "A real, live demon from Hell..."

"See why I don't talk about this place?" Arthur asked as he pulled his wand out. Etrigan was about five feet away, and turned to address him:

"_He seeks my heart to stop it cold,  
Seldom is one so young so bold." _

"Defend your sister naught this day,  
For Etrigan seeks other prey."

The scent of brimstone wafted from him, as Etrigan approached the blonde girl. She backed away from him, "My solicitor's supposed to be here." With a claw-snap, Roger Webster appeared, wearing suspender socks, lacy briefs, his face half-shaven.

"_You speak for this chit?  
She is not worth your writ._"

"I've taken her gold," Webster said. "Who are you, and what do you want with my client?"

"_A soul I need,  
A lead I received,_  
_For the demon Etrigan,  
Victims can call need._"

"I smell another, the sweet scents of betrayal and cowardice," Hella said, surveying the room as Etrigan approached Gryffindor. "We owe naught for this soul, either," she added, looking back and forth as she stalked toward Slytherin, students scattering before her. "Only one here smells of cowardice, of a trust betrayed." She pointed at Pritchard, "You, boy. Your honor is stained, your word for naught. Come quietly, or will'st be fought?"

"I am responsible for Mr. Pritchard," Severus said. Hella's yellow head swiveled to him. "You speak for this coward?

"I do not condone his actions, his betrayal of a housemate. Does that merit Hell?"

"You have faced Riddle, one who thought himself demon," Hella smiled, and students shuddered, "Punished is he for presumption, ruled the court of Hell. How would you spend this?"

"I would speak for Mr. Pritchard's soul."

"So be it," Hella said. Addressing Pritchard, "Your soul now marked; Hell's coin be spent. Behave thyself; thy soul forfeit to him." She turned and stalked toward Gryffindor.

Webster asked, "What do you intend for my client?"

Hella looked him over, "The scent of greed, a tattered shred of honor remains. Choose your clients well, or meet us again you shall." She motioned to Lucille, "A chance received with change of form; innocence renewed. Marks she has for history and arrogance." The girl vanished with Hella.

Jason Blood reappeared, addressing Minerva, "What are you doing in regard to Miss Wayne?"

"I understand she is creating a device to return with someone else." Jason nodded, snapping his fingers and disappearing with Minerva.

------------------------

"_Now_ what are you gonna tell Mom in your email?" Arthur asked.

Julie shivered, "Not a damned word."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, October 31, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Charms class: 09:10  
_**------------------------

The somewhat stunned third-years filed into the classroom quietly, Professor Flitwick not even bothering with the roll. "What can we learn from this?" he squeaked in his tiny voice.

"What Malfoy hasn't learned yet," one of the twins said. Her sister nodded, "_Don't_ fuck with Wayne."

Charlie shuddered, "With _ANY_ of them!"

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, October 31, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, History class: 09:18  
_**------------------------

The first years sat, one of them bursting out in tears. Professor Lupin hugged her, rocking back and forth, whispering to her as Julie looked wide-eyed at Tomas. "Did you know?" she asked; he shook his head.

------------------------  
**_Monday, October 31, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:14  
_**------------------------

Jason appeared with Minerva, he indicated a charm bracelet, "Touch it and say 'Return' when you are ready." He raised his hand, when Minerva asked, "Why can you not do that with Miss Wayne?"

"She must follow the timeline," he answered, turning and saying, "Hello, Miss Wayne."

"Good morning, Mr. Blood, Demon Etrigan," Mattie replied. "Have you come for me?"

Jason shook his head. "No, follow your plan and take care. Your family sends their love, and Etrigan greets you," he said before he vanished with a pop.

"Oh, my," Alberta said, "Miss M, I presume? Would you care for a bit of a chat?"

------------------------

"Quite different from mine," Minerva said, looking out a window. "That is Miss Wayne's starship?"

"It is. Please have a seat, would you care for a new thing called tea?"

Minerva raised her eyebrow. "A bit of difference, the British have been drinking tea... oh, my. Your pardon, yes, indeed. A bit of honey with it?"

"Honey?" Alberta inquired. Two drops later, she added, "Oh, my, that does make it better."

They sipped companionably, Minerva saying, "This is Ceylon tea, wherever did you get it?"

"Miss Yates. As part of their work on the ship, she's flown it about, coming back with quite a few items in trade, including a 'coffee' plant. She showed Professor Barnhart how to connect his plant beds to another with a different type of plant, which freshens the water as it circulates, and they needed nothing but pipes, a flat tank of water and some string." Alberta sipped, adding, "She is growing a herb garden on board, this particular plant cleanses the air. She had a few extra cuttings, and inquired if we would like them, in exchange for fresh food." Alberta smiled gently, "The food on their ship is apparently barely above stale bread and water, a problem they are attempting to rectify."

Minerva nodded, changing the subject, she added, "I must confess that I have been enjoying your letters; it is like reading a mystery. One must resist paging ahead to discover the ending."

"I have so little time for reading for pleasure, I understand. A guilty secret," Alberta smiled at Minerva, taking a seat next to her, tea in her lap. "You do not know the ending yourself?"

"Only through your last mention of her on the 28th of October. I really must rearrange my office like this, it is quite cozy." Minerva took a sip, "Might I meet Miss Bundy and Miss Yates quietly? I'll prepare for their arrival."

"That can be arranged, perhaps for lunch? I hesitate to invite myself to sup with them, but their ship really is a marvelous device." Alberta took another sip, "There really are horrendous wars in the future? Miss Wayne has told us so little, properly so, but we are naturally consumed with curiosity."

"Quite understandably, and I am afraid I must observe the same guidelines. Miss Wayne is not aware of my personal background, but I lost my fiancé in one war. I believe there were seven or eight million lost on both sides then, sixty million or so in a later one." Minerva looked in her cup, then up. "To balance that, there have been the most remarkable advances. Miss Wayne herself is responsible for introducing some to Hogwarts, although she will deny any credit." She pulled a small silver device from a pocket, passing it over. "It allows me to speak to almost anyone on the planet in an instant."

"Amazing," Alberta said, opening the cell phone. She studied the device, passing it back. "I feel so backward."

"As did I when Miss Wayne introduced us to them two years ago, it is muggle technology we were unaware of, and I shall undoubtedly feel just as foolish when I see this starship." She finished her tea, "Remember, this ship is current to _now_, those of my time and Miss Yates' will no doubt amaze us all."

"True. Let us fetch Miss Wayne and Miss Bundy; they should both be in Alchemy class."

------------------------

"How is everyone?" Mattie asked as they walked outside. "What are the Quidditch standings?"

"Slytherin's replacement Seeker is not as talented as you, from what Severus said, Miss Bundy was most reluctant to replace you."

"I what?" Anne said.

Minerva smiled. "Your kinswoman Karen is Quidditch captain and a seventh-year. Should you decide to proceed with your plan, you will have another, Kelly, who is an instructor."

"Did Professor Binns remember me?" Mattie asked, motioning them away from the descending ramp.

"He did not, he's still on the Goblin Wars, teaching to empty classrooms," Minerva shook her head, "If I had known I was coming, I would have brought correspondence, Amy has quite a bit for you."

"I'm sure," motioning up the ramp, "Welcome to the _Cassidy Yates_."

------------------------

"Honey, I'm home!" Mattie called, explaining, "It's a joke. She must be refining, we went asteroid-hunting over the weekend."

Cassidy entered, barefoot and wearing a halter top with a short skirt, "Hello. If I had known we had company, I would have baked a cake." She held out her hand, "Cassidy Yates."

"Minerva McGonagall," she said automatically, and Cassidy started, swaying and gripping the table.

"Well, that cat's out of the bag. I hate it when she does that, but at least she didn't scream and faint when she met you." Motioning to the semicircular bench, Mattie asked, "What can we do for you?"

Minerva gazed at Cassidy and her collar, "I understand your mistake, Miss Bundy. It does look like a form of jewelry. A reprehensible form, though." She settled herself, "Miss Bundy, Miss Yates, I wanted to meet you, and prepare for a smooth journey. Should you decide to come, Miss Bundy, please let the Headmistress know as soon as possible. We would need a great deal of preparation beyond your pig."

"So it's safe for the timeline?" Cassidy asked.

"Apparently so. In consulting the student lists for the next several terms, I could not find a listing for Miss Bundy. That does not necessarily mean she proceeded, she could have failed to attend for other reasons."

Alberta looked at Anne, "When you travel home for the holidays, you will not speak of this to anyone. Furthermore, should you decide to proceed, you shall give the utmost consideration to the fact that you will never see your family again. They will be lost forever to you, save as an entry in a dusty tome. They will no longer be living, breathing people, but bones in a tomb." She reached out and held Anne's hand, "Just as I will be."

Minerva leaned forward to look at the girl, "For that reason, I will not accept your decision before the new year. As to how it shall work, our Miss Bundy reports American cousins living in Chicago; we thought you could be a transfer student from Salem."

"Salem? American? Chicago?" Anne asked. Cassidy glanced over, "Let's take 'em."

"Chicago is a city in America, which is one of those 'undiscovered' continents I mentioned," Mattie told Headmistress Oldridge. "You'll be about a hundred years early, so you'll have to keep quiet. You secure in the hold?" she asked Cassidy, "I'll do a preflight."

"Five minutes," Cassidy called, as Mattie gestured her guests forward.

------------------------

"Anne?" Mattie gestured to the command chair, pulling out chairs for Minerva and Alberta. She took the ops chair, starting a preflight as the engines rumbled. "We won't be going faster than light, just a nice slow flight to North America."

"Still got that phase variance I need to find," Cassidy said as she entered, helping them to buckle in. "Feels like about two microns. Clear left."

"Clear right, ready to lift."

Cassidy buckled in, touching the controls, and Hogwarts disappeared below them. "Ballistic to orbit?"

"Why not?" Mattie asked as the ship stood on her tail, "You ladies ready to _fly_?"

------------------------

"Low orbit," Cassidy said, "This place looks so _empty_!" The planet rotated below them, "Japan coming up on the right, Greece and the Mideast on the left in a minute, then Italy. Spain's ahead and then we'll be over the Atlantic."

Mattie turned, "The Americas have about four hundred million people." They banked over 'Chicago', then 'Boston', overflying Greenland, tiny Iceland passing below to starboard. They banked again over the Nordic countries, before touching down a minute later at Hogwarts.

------------------------

"Professor McGonagall, might I have a word in private?" Cassidy asked. Mattie raised an eyebrow as Minerva followed her to the flight deck, and the hatch sealed. Cassidy flicked a couple switches on the command chair; inviting her to take a seat. She chuckled, adding, "I've locked out the boards, don't worry about where you put your hands."

"Ah, thank you. What may I do for you, Miss Yates?" Minerva relaxed a bit.

"This is difficult, so fly along, please." Cassidy gathered herself, "The reason I'm having this conversation is that history records 'The One' doing so, and I'm convinced I am that person. What I'm going to tell you is a bit of future history, and it must remain between us. Understood?" Minerva nodded, "Nothing in the Headmaster's journal, nothing said to Professor Vector. What do you know about the relationship between Mattie and I?"

"You are shipmates, and," she gestured, "Mistress and slave."

"She does get this off, although there are a few rough patches there. No, Mattie and I share a deeper relationship. She's my great-grandmother, although she doesn't know that. She only knows my middle name, 'Wayne'. However, what happens when we go through the transport on April first changes human history." She gathered herself, adding, "The only real problem is that in order for that to happen, I have to die." She grinned wryly, "I keep telling myself, it's not a bad trade."

Minerva sat back, shocked, "How?"

"History is fuzzy on the exact details. The recordings weren't the best; there was a lot of interference from the temporal field. We made it through all right, and Mattie turned to greet Professor Dumbledore – make sure he's there, all right?" Minerva nodded, "Someone fired an AK at her back, and I took a step and intercepted it, and... well, I died." Cassidy took a deep breath, "In any case, you don't need to build a second device to send me home. I... I don't know what happens with my... my corpse."

She finally started to cry, and Minerva gathered her in her arms as she wept. '_What do I say? What do I do_?' she thought. '_No wonder she was shocked to meet me, it confirmed her death_.' She rocked Cassidy gently, letting her cry herself out. She conjured a hankie, passing it over.

"Feeling better?" she asked. Cassidy nodded, wiping her eyes, "I've needed that for _years_," she said with feeling. "A couple of other things to cry about, I... well, I somewhat lied to Mattie about the school trip. I was in a private ship, a raceabout, with two other people, when we were captured. The pirates got my life pod, but I saw the racer explode, I'm the only survivor, and there are no others to contaminate the timeline. They were good friends," she said pensively.

She drew a shuddering breath, "Secondly, I'm a Hogwarts graduate, class of 2385, a good Gryffindor." She grinned at Minerva, "First in the family in 130 years, everyone else was either a 'claw or a Slythie. There was a Huffie back there somewhere too, but I burned out my magic escaping from a Master." She grinned at Minerva's questioning look, "Professor Harry could apperate from one place to another when he was a kid, Gran was a ghost whisperer, I... well, I could time-jump. Just a bit, usually not more than an hour. Pulled off some great pranks, though, but now I'm a squib." She looked out the port at the castle, "I miss my magic somewhat, but I didn't know I'd jumped a thousand years. Unfortunately, I just dropped into my previous master's camp, I was registered to him when I woke up, and he chained me to a pole to dance." She snorted, "What he called 'dancing', I call using the pain circuits in this collar."

"That's torture!" Minerva whispered, and Cassidy shook her head. "Not legally, I'm a slave, an animal. It's discipline. Anyway, Mattie happened along a couple hours later, and the rest..." she shrugged, "...it's fate."

"Surely there's something we can do..."

Cassidy clutched Minerva's hands, "I don't see how. _Please_, Professor, I _must_ die in the Entrance Hall on April first, someone _must_ fire an AK at me. Please _promise_ me that you'll... you'll kill me, if nobody else does! I'll write a note and record a chip for you after you leave, and give it to Professor Oldridge for April first's entry. Please, _promise_ me!"

Minerva sat back and regarded the girl. "Miss Yates, how were your potions OWLS and NEWTS?"

"Huh? What does that have to do with my dying in four months?" She blinked at Minerva, then added, "I suffered through it and scraped out an A, barely, in my OWL, and didn't do NEWT potions. Why?"

"In addition to mixing and chopping things to make potions, that class teaches critical thinking, something Gryffindor has, traditionally, been weak in," Minerva explained. "WHY does a potion succeed or fail? Ravenclaw and Slytherin students have been able to step back and analyze, whilst Gryffindor students simply charge ahead, devil take the hindmost." She smiled faintly, "Something I myself did in my own student days. The point is, Miss Yates, that you must stop that little voice running about your head screaming 'I am going to die!'. There is a simple solution, you just do not see it."

"But... I'm gonna die!"

"And what happens after that?" Cassidy blinked in confusion, Minerva sighed, "Step-by-step, what exactly happens April first?"

"Um, we go through the portal, Mattie gives Lucille Malfoy a scroll, then turns to greet you and Professor Dumbledore, Malfoy unrolls the scroll and starts to read it, then casts Avada, I take a step to intercept it," she tapped her left breast, "right here, over my heart, I fall over dead, and that's it."

"So now, you've died. History is satisfied," Minerva leaned forward, "**_Think_**, Miss Yates."

Cassidy blinked; her face brightened. "Oh..."

------------------------  
**_Monday, October 31, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Girl's tower: 17:06  
_**------------------------

Mattie stretched; sitting on her bunk to pull off her boots and wiggling her toes. Reaching into her bag, she held her ring to the battery, thinking '_There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home. I feel like Dorothy sometimes_.' Replacing the innocuous battery in her bag, she pulled off her sweater and tie, casting '_Scourgify_' and '_Reparo_' on each as they were folded, and laid next to her. She stood and reached behind her, unzipping her skirt, then carefully pulling her bodysuit's zipper down, past her bra and peeled it off, inspecting it and repairing a small run as she cleaned it. '_At least I'm finally getting a bust_,' she mused, '_A B cup bra's getting a bit small, though. Double-D's, here I come! Why, oh why, didn't I wear a front-close that day? At least my damn period's over for the month_.' She pulled her charms off, tucking them safely under her pillow, then inspected and cleaned her underwear, placing them with her wands under the pillow. She wrapped a towel around herself, then headed to the newly christened 'Bathing room'. Looking up, she said, "Evening, Susan. How..."

"_Stupefy, Stupefy, Stupefy_!" Susan Cooper ran forward to keep the girl's head from hitting the stone. Wrapping her in a blanket, she bound her to a broom, and flew through a window.

------------------------  
**_Monday, October 31, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Doune Castle: 23:43  
_**------------------------

The exhausted, shivering girl landed, telling a guard, "The Royal Sorcerer is expecting us, quickly!"

------------------------

"Master, I have the time traveler, _now_ may I see my family?" the girl asked.

"Foolish girl, we have only minutes left!" She stiffened as he cast an incantation on her, a glowing red collar appearing on her throat. "You are mage-bound to me now, wench. Take that place on the circle, I must begin!"

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, October 31, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Batcave: 20:55  
_**------------------------

Zatanna appeared, dressed in her traditional top hat, tuxedo and fishnet outfit. Merlin, on the other hand, wore a simple brown robe, somewhat frayed at the edges. His wooden staff was simple and unadorned. "Good evening, Mrs. Wayne," he said, and was corrected. "Down here, Batgirl. Up there, Mrs. Wayne."

"My apologies, I did not know." She nodded, and removed the cowl from the figure in the coffin.

"As generic a 45 year old human male as we can make," Zatanna said. "A perfect, uniform set of teeth, no identifiable scars or fingerprints, with blue eyes, straight black hair and type O blood. The entrance and exit wounds match the damaged cowl. Take a drop of blood and run a DNA scan, the medical examiner's sure to." Batgirl nodded, taking her samples, telling herself, "It's not Bruce."

"Regarding Miss Malfoy," Merlin said, "Hella took her to visit Hell. They had not returned when we left. Minerva reports having seen and spoken to Mattie, she is safe and is working on her return. Tomas is doing well, and had actually heard of me!" He seemed surprised at this.

The computer dinged, reporting "No cross reference found. Subject is unknown." Batgirl nodded, pulling the damaged cowl back into place, while Zatanna secured her top hat.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, October 31, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Gotham plaza, Halloween celebration: 21:23  
_**------------------------

Batman paused on the rooftop long enough to be seen, then fired a line and leapt away as people pointed. There was the crack of a rifle shot, Batman folding in on himself, falling away from the crowd as people screamed.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, November 1, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 07:18  
_**------------------------

"We have a problem," Perenelle Flamel reported. "Two girls are missing, along with a school broom, Miss Wayne and Miss Cooper."

"Just what I needed, someone whose family summons demons going missing," the Headmistress moaned.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, November 1, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor: 06:02  
_**------------------------

Selina watched the news as WGTV's perky blonde reporter said, "Good morning, Gotham. We wait and wonder as a press briefing from Police Commissioner Giomotto is about to get under way. The question on everyone's mind: Is Batman dead?" Let's go to the footage from last night's Halloween celebration. Children should not watch this tape."

"What about adults?" Zatanna said from the doorway. She cringed as the figure crumpled in midair, falling to the ground. "Was there anything in the belt?"

"Nothing identifiable and the self destruct went off for the radios and so forth," Selina said, sipping tea. "The commissioner's going to speak."

The video cut to Police Headquarters, the commissioner saying, "Good morning. I'll keep this brief and to the point. Last night, at about 9:20 pm, someone used a large caliber rifle on a person tentatively identified as Batman." A diagram flicked up, "We will not show the autopsy photos; they are rather gruesome. The bullet entered below the right eye, traveling up and back, and exiting above and behind the left ear. Destruction of the headpiece, with residual bone and brain matter confirm the cause of death as trauma to the head and brain."

"Who is he?" someone shouted, and the Commissioner paused, "We don't know. Could I have the artist's sketch? Thank you." A color sketch appeared, "Victim is a Caucasian male, about 40, blue eyes, black hair, type O blood, six feet two inches, about 220 pounds with very little fat, a very muscular, fit physique. Of course, he's Batman." Some of the reporters chuckled, "There are no cavities or fillings, which rule out dental records, no tattoos or piercing, and no bodily scarring. This is unusual, as everyone has at least one or two, but there are none, not even vaccination marks. He even has his tonsils and wisdom teeth. This is unusual, as we know Batman has been injured over the years. Batman either has superb medical facilities, or this is some sort of switch."

The Commissioner held up his hand to shouted questions, "Batman is known to have had access to JLA technology, and due to the location, police were on the scene within thirty seconds. This is our leading theory."

"We could have added scars," Zatanna said.

Selina shook her head, "Too many were from Bruce's 'accidents' or known criminal injuries, which could have identified him. It was a judgment call, but he's jumping the right way with the tech. Clark will confirm that Batman has availed himself of JLA medical tech, which should answer that question." She flicked off the TV, "Thanks, Zee."

"No problem. That's like, two hundred thousand I still owe you. See you at the funeral?"

Selina nodded, "Donna Troy's going to play the Pimpernel; that knocks _her_ count down to a half million or so." She grinned, "Thanks again."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, November 1, 1379: (Julian)  
Scotland, Doune Castle, Great Hall: 16:41  
_**------------------------

Mattie groaned quietly, as the small platform she was on swayed. '_Where am I? Last I remember was in the bath..._' she wondered, opening her eyes. In the faint light coming through the burlap, she could see the simple shift she was wearing, and could feel her Ring pulsing gently on her finger. '_I need to charge my ring..._ she thought woozily. '_What happened_?' She felt the iron chains on her wrists and the aches in her limbs. '_Let's see what's going on here._' She opened her perimeter spell, musing, '_Lots of muggles, banquet preparations, I guess. I'm being carried between two wizards, with Susan behind them. Why do I feel a drain on my magic? They seem rather dull, and they have drains on their magic too. I'll wait and see what happens._'

------------------------

The Royal Sorcerer was most pleased. Not only was the Time Traveler a young wench (he always enjoyed them), just showing her curves, she was also a fairly powerful witch. He did not want to take her until she was completely under his control. The spell he would cast tonight should start her subjugation, he mused, and her first breast-milk in a potion would finalize it. His mage-bond should prove sufficient to the task until then; as his magical tap upon her would drain her as it increased his magic, enabling him to counter any efforts she produced. He waved a serving wench over to refill his goblet, groping her as she nervously poured.

------------------------

"What have you for us this fine evening, Michael?" Robert II asked, the Royal Sorcerer suppressing his flash of irritation at the familiarity.

"I received information that a Time Traveler had appeared, my liege," Michael Potter said, "She was at the school near the town of Inverness, so I made arrangements for one of her schoolmates to steal her away. She arrived last night; I labored long to make her mine." He drank, "'Tis a good thing, she has a fair bit of power, but she is mine now, as is the schoolgirl that betrayed her."

"Have her sent to my chambers, then," and Robert's wife shot a glare at him. She remained properly silent, however. Michael raised his hand, "I beg you not, milord. The spell I need must use a virgin maid's milk; the traveler is still growing her curves." He sipped again. "Her school mate is older, but I have not yet had time to determine if she has been taken yet. If you can wait a few months, then you may be her first taking. It is only fitting you should be her first."

"I can wait, then," Robert said as he arose from the table, crossing to take his seat for the night's festivities. "Bring out the Traveler," he called.

People murmured in fear as the two wizards appeared, carrying a form on a two foot circular platform covered by a red cloth, a witch following behind. All three wore glowing red bands about their neck and simple red tunics, they were barefoot and their faces blank. They stopped, and at a gesture, placed the disk before the throne, Susan removing the cloth as they knelt to the side.

On the disk, a young woman crouched, hands and feet manacled, wearing a glowing red collar and red tunic. A rough chain held her down, as the Royal Sorcerer waved his wand, calling "_Enervate_!"

'_Showtime_!' Mattie thought as she stirred, looking up. "Where am I?" she asked.

'_Veritas_!' the Sorcerer cast, "You are the Time Traveler? When were you born?"

"May 31, 1988," she said, and people gasped. "Where am I, what happened?" she asked, as she thought, '_Now I know whose tap that is, it's time to get out of here_'. She smiled to herself, whispering, '_Finite Incantatem_'. On the dais, the Royal Sorcerer swayed as his link to her power was suddenly cut. '_Exsicco_!' he called, pointing his wand at Mattie as she said, '_Protegro_'. His spell bounced off her shield, the king asking, "What is wrong?"

The Sorcerer paused to consider this, while Mattie asked, "You still haven't answered my questions. What happened, and where am I?

"You are in my court, do you not know of me?" the king asked.

Mattie looked at him, "I've never heard of you. Are you some sort of knight?"

"A mere knight?" he shouted, "I am King Robert the Second of Scotland!"

Mattie said, '_Alohomora_' and her chains dropped off as she stood up. "I've never heard of you," she repeated, adding, "Pesky things, chains." She looked around casually, "Nice castle; is it new? Hello, what's this?" as she brushed her hair back, her fingers encountering her glowing collar.

"'Tis the mage-bond I cast on you, wench. You are bound to obey my commands as my total slave."

"Did you say I was your slave?" Mattie demanded. "I don't think so," she said, trying to step off the disk and encountering a barrier.

The Sorcerer smirked, "You are, I had you marked as a common wench this morn, now kneel before me."

She ran her hands over herself as she sank to her knees, stopping at the mark on her thigh. "You _branded_ me?"

"Of course I did, wench. I know not how you blocked my tap, but I have three others to drain dry to restore it." He gestured, "Once I have restored my tap upon your power, I shall be the most powerful wizard in Europe!" Smirking, he added, "Until then, you cannot rise from your knees without my permission. Bow to me."

Mattie slowly lowered her head to the flagstones. "What if another wizard contests my ownership?"

"There are no others, wench. Once I have your full powers under my control, I shall drain you dry of magic and knowledge, then throw your body to the dragon as his feed."

"My full powers?" she asked, ring pulsing on her finger.

He gloated, "Once your curves are completely grown, I shall imbibe a potion made from your virgin milk, which will transfer your powers to me. Then, you will give your maidenhead to the king, as I have promised."

"That's what I needed to know," she said, standing. Pulling back her hair, she said, "I contest your ownership of me."

"You can't..." the Sorcerer gobbled, as several large green objects appeared, aiming at him, and with an unearthly roar, started to spit energy at him. He screamed, ducking for cover as his imprisoning spell wavered and died. She stepped down from the disk, calling '_Expelliarmus_', the sorcerer's wand shooting into her hand. The machine guns disappeared, as the king screamed, "Attack! Take her!"

'_Damn, my Ring's dry_,' she thought, as she said, "I think not," turning to face the onrushing men-at-arms, calling, '_Fusum_!' The guards' chain mail welded together, they crashed to the floor; Mattie smiled, "Let's rock."

"Fortunately, I have another wand," the Sorcerer said with a cruel smile, shouting, '_Exsicco maxima_!'; draining the other three wizards. They collapsed as he faced Mattie, "You will return to my control, wench." he said.

"I don't think so, being someone's slave is not on my to-do list," she said as she started to circle. "I would like to know how you got me, though," she asked conversationally.

"I informed your school mate that I had her family," he said, his face tense.

"Do you?" her gaze locked on his.

"In my donjon," he said; snapping, '_Fera Verto_'. The curse missed Mattie, hitting a courtier, who transformed into a goblet.

"Very nice," she said, "I assume you're a Gryff, going by all the red. Transfig seems to be a house specialty of yours." He smirked and nodded, '_Serpensortia Maxima_' she shouted, an enormous rattlesnake appearing. "Let's clear out the riff-raff, shall we?" she added casually, as the courtiers screamed and fled in panic.

"Ah, the Den," he smiled, giving a small nod of his head, which she returned. "Sixth year?" he inquired, firing a quick '_Petrificus_', which unfortunately hit the king. The queen screamed as he went rigid in his throne, Mattie flicking a '_Stupefy_' at her, adding, "I do hate the whiny types."

"In that we are agreed," he said; '_Vermillius_' he added, casting it at the floor.

'_Glacius_', she drawled, freezing the floor and using it to skate away. "For what it's worth, you've been much more of a challenge than the last duel I had."

"I am honored," he said, adding, "Tell me of these large white ships I see in your mind."

"They're known as Star Destroyers," she replied, asking, "Do you think you're the first to try to read my mind? How do you know I'm not lying to you?"

"You cannot, it is in your mind," he snorted.

"And I in yours," she replied with a smile (thanking Albus), he recoiled in shock. '_Stupefy_'!"

------------------------

"Hello, Susan," Mattie said coolly, tossing the last of the four mage-collars, her own, into the fire. "We'll talk later, for now; shall we retrieve your family?"

"You know? You're not angry?"

"I didn't say I wasn't angry, I said we'd talk later. Now, would you like some help retrieving your family? The sooner we have them, the sooner we can leave for Hogwarts." She motioned, "The brothers are confining the sorcerer, but we don't have much time." She stood, and scooped a goblet off the table. "Come on, now."

------------------------

"Hogwarts, Headmistress' office!" Mattie shouted, flinging floo powder. The flames turned green, and she poked her head through as Susan changed.

"Miss Wayne!" the Headmistress said, "Where are you?"

"Doune Castle, I've got Susan and her family, along with the brothers Dumbledore. Once we come through, you need to ward the floo, there's a rather angry wizard here." Her head vanished as the Coopers came through, then the two brothers, and after a moment, Mattie. She turned, casting '_interstinguo_', and the flames died as she put a pot of floo powder on the mantle.

"Why did you extinguish the fire?" the Headmistress asked.

"I set a timed blasting hex on the fireplace," she replied. "It can be rebuilt, and I stole his floo powder, so he'll have to come at us a different way." She nodded, letting Susan brush her off. "If you'll excuse me, I need to let Cassidy know I'm back."

Alberta crossed her arms, "Dressed like that? Child, there's a blizzard outside; you'll catch your death. Let me send someone to fetch her, when is the last time you ate?"

------------------------

"Mattie!" Cassidy called, running to hug her. "I was so worried, and red is _so_ not your color." She sat on the couch, "What happened?"

"Susan?"

"Er, I received a message that the Dark Mage had taken my family, and would release them 'twere I bring the 'Time Traveller' before midnight on the thirty-first." She swallowed, "I had no choice in the matter..."

"You could have asked one of us," the Headmistress snapped. "We could have worked out a suitable plan, instead of your simply charging off."

"I... I realize that now, Headmistress, but I was just so _worried_..."

"Miss Wayne, you are the injured party, what do you wish?"

"I do not want her expelled," she replied. "Whatever you think fair. My question is, how likely is it that the Dark Wizard will seek revenge on the Coopers?"

"Almost certain. Mr. Cooper, your business?"

"Carpenter, milady, but all my tools and such are in m' home in Fortingall," he said as Cassidy leaned over to whisper to Mattie, who nodded. "We've a bit of extra gold, sir," she said. "We'll be happy to loan it to you, you can start in the spring. I'm sure the village can use a good carpenter. Until then..."

"Until then, you may stay in the castle," the Headmistress said. "Miss Cooper, I would like to know why your eyebrows are singed off. I think there is much more in this tale needs telling."

"I brushed the Mage's Grimore by mistake," Susan admitted. "There was a large flare of light which knocked me back a yard or two."

"I thought about stealing them, but when Susan got burned, I changed my mind. The sorcerer had these three under a tap of some kind," Mattie said. "When I escaped from confinement, he stole everything from them, they collapsed. We traded spells, I stunned him, and here we are."

"You are not telling the whole tale," one of the Dumbledore brothers said. "We had been captive for... what year is it?"

"1379," someone said, and he continued, "Ah. Three years under the spell of that dark mage, and the first I woke up was to witness th' duel. I couldn't move, but I could hear and see bits of it." He glanced at his brother and Susan, "Why didn't you kill him?"

"Two reasons, I've sworn an oath not to, and I know his descendant, who's a really nice fellow."

"Well, now, are there any other questions?" the Headmistress asked.

"Just one," the other Dumbledore brother said. "What is a 'Star Destroyer'?"

Cassidy and Mattie started to laugh, Cassidy saying, "It's a huge warship, painted white, wedge shaped and miles long. Where did you hear of it?"

"The dark mage said he pulled them from your mind..."

Mattie chuckled, "He did, but they're fictional, parts of a story. I could tell he was trying to read my mind (she glanced at the Headmistress), so I lied to him."

"You can do so?" she asked.

------------------------

Cassidy dragged Mattie toward the front doors. "I want to make sure you're okay, I'm going to stick you in the auto-doc. C'mon, we can dash; the snow's only about a half meter deep."

"But I feel fine..."

Cassidy snorted, "I ran over here like this," and she waved at her short skirt and halter, "You can run back in that shift. It's only a hundred meters or so, and," she gave Mattie a glare, "I saw that brand on your thigh. I want to make sure it's not infected or something."

"The brand stays, it's a reminder."

"Gawd, you're stubborn. Okay, but I'm going to check for nerve and muscle damage as well, _Mistress_." Mattie reluctantly nodded, "Ready to dash?"

------------------------  
**_Thursday, November 2, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 21:26  
_**------------------------

Minerva settled down with her tea, opening the 1379 Journal to November first. She was anxious to see what Alberta had to say about Miss Wayne's disappearance, although she had been too exhausted to check the previous night.

_1 November, 1379 _

_My dear Minerva,  
All is well with Miss Wayne. She returned late this evening with Miss Cooper and two other students we had given up for dead, the Dumbledore brothers.  
__Alberta Oldridge _

------------------------  
**_Friday, November 3, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Wayne Enterprises, Chairman's office: 09:29  
_**------------------------

The elevator 'dinged', and the occupant approached Mira's desk. He smiled gently, "Good morning, Ms. Thompson. I'm aware I don't have an appointment, but I was wondering if I might have a few minutes of Mrs. Wayne's time."

"I'll check, Father Tim. Excuse me a moment," She smiled, and the former Marine unarmed combat instructor smoothed her tiny skirt and walked down the hall. Knocking, she asked, "Mrs. Wayne? Father Tim of St. Michaels' is here. He doesn't have an appointment, but is asking for a few minutes."

"Please, send him in," Selina said. She stood, offering her hand, "Father Tim! Please, come in, Mira, we're not to be disturbed."

------------------------

"Thank you, Mrs. Wayne," Father Tim said, taking a seat. "I was given to understand you had some _most_ unusual visitors." He held up a hand, "Just to reassure you, Ms. Thompson was not the source. Now, I understand you're concerned about Martha's disappearance from Hogwarts, but I really must inquire about the demons."

"I see," Selina said, putting in two sugar cubes and offering him his cup of coffee. He accepted, not bothering to wonder about how she knew his coffee preferences. "Shall we lay our cards on the table, Father?"

He stirred, and sipped, "Excellent coffee. Very well, Mrs. Wayne, your daughter Martha, who is a wonderful child, is currently a third-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry near Inverness. She was abducted on the school train September first, sent back to the year 1379 by a dark spell. Growing impatient, you called the Lady Mage Zatanna, whom you have known for a number of years through the JLA." He took another sip, "The only person I have told of the activities in your 'sub-basement' is His Holiness the Pope, in private conference, a year ago. He was, of course, aware of Hogwarts."

She took a sip of her coffee. "It's Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, sixty dollars a pound. How is your second cousin Alicia doing in her first year at Salem? We looked at that school, but decided Hogwarts was a more comfortable fit. I think Mattie would enjoy meeting her." She took another sip, "I received a call from Minerva, who was taken to visit Mattie by Mr. Blood. She is as safe as can be in the Middle Ages, and is working on a device to return. She recently acquired a small starship; I will be traveling to London soon regarding that." Taking another sip, "I asked Zatanna to choose an appropriate team. I should have discussed her choices with her, which is of course my responsibility." She took another sip, "In retrospect, from a magical viewpoint, she chose an excellent team. However, it could have been more... politically sensitive. I understand it has caused Minerva some problems."

He finished his coffee and rose, "I believe my concerns have been answered, please call me if I can assist. I was not looking forward to your excommunication."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, November 4, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 07:45  
_**------------------------

A ball of hellfire appeared, Lucille Malfoy dropping out of it to land before the High Table. She sat up, and giggled, "Hogwarts", then snapping at Minerva, "The date, idiot!"

Severus said, "November fourth, 2000. Where have you been, Miss Malfoy?"

"Ah, Severus, my old friend," and she giggled again as she stood, dusting herself off. "_Miss_ Malfoy, indeed; a matter I shall discuss with Potter, Dumbledore and Wayne. How they have entrapped me as a mere _female_, that Hell's own spells could not break." She giggled again.

"I have not spelled you, Miss Malfoy," Harry said.

She waved him off, "Where have I been? Why, I was recreating Dante's visit to Hell, courtesy of Miss Wayne. I started, as all do, at the Gates, the difference being I was still mortal, and thus a curiosity. Whilst I waited to be judged, I spoke with many different demons, and I found great dissatisfaction. Lord Lucifer had left his post, two angels (she spat) attempting to fill his shoes." She smiled, "I began to formulate a plan, a most wondrous plan, to take advantage of the brewing civil war, and take my place as ruling Queen of Hell." She giggled again.

"Being judged arrogant," she said, "I know not why, I was sent for my 'lesson'. I was to learn humility from it" (she spat again), "I, the most humble of men." She giggled, "I appeared as a Roman prisoner in Gaul, chained as a slave wench, and was marched those hundreds of miles, all the way to Rome itself, not knowing of my true self. There, I was sold from the block, where I started to slowly regain myself. Being judged not unattractive" (she tossed her hair), I was originally to be a bath attendant, and was chained in a cell to be raped, as was proper for a mere female slave. When I struggled, I was sent for training as a fighting slave." She looked about, "I fought in the arena, and I slew men, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed using my charms, and then running my gladius through their belly, watching them bleed to death on the sands."

She giggled, "When Spartacus started his revolt, I knew only that there was a difference with me, I was not like the other females. I journeyed with him, up and down Italy, fighting and killing Romans. I had gained the eye of an archer, and gladly killed many, many Romans. They did not credit me, thinking I a mere camp follower, a mere _female_, a mere _slave_. They learned differently when I slit their throats as they lay on me." She stalked about, "When Spartacus was defeated, I, along with other 'rebellious slaves', was sentenced to death. Crassus offered a quick death to point out Spartacus, but I declined; why should I give my 'masters' anything?"

Snorting, "Our wrists nailed to the patibulum, the females were laid in the grass, and raped by any who came along the Appian Way. I did not care, indeed, I asked the centurion to make sure I lasted on the cross a long time, as I did not fear death. After they had amused themselves, my shoulders were lashed to the crosspiece so I might easily breathe, and I was raised to a high cross, my feet then nailed to either side." Lucille grinned cruelly, "As an attractive female, I was good advertising as my hair blew; a wine vendor took advantage and set up his cart, nailing his price list between my feet. I watched Spartacus die after three days as I plotted and planned my conquest of Hell. After five days, most had died, but I persisted, declining to have my legs broken. I took a full week to die, crucified as a rebellious slave, that wine list still nailed between my feet, the merchant long departed."

"Take your seat, Miss Malfoy," Minerva said.

"I shall, Minerva, I shall bide my time, being a 'good girl', until I am ready for my conquest of Hell." She took a seat at the Gryffindor table, Julie staring at the red, puckered scar on her wrist as she reached for the juice.


	9. Week Eleven, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
9 – Eleventh week, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Monday, November 6, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Library: 18:52  
_**------------------------

Arthur looked down at the e-mail he'd just written and hesitated. He'd stood up to Mattie when the situation had called for it. He'd stood up to Snape when the Potions professor had made an unethical demand of him. He'd stood up to a ranking demon from Hell to protect his sister, even if he'd had a long attack of the shakes afterwards.

But with the death of Bruce Wayne, Selina Wayne was now the head of the Bat Clan, widely regarded as a group of people it was not safe to cross under any circumstances. Even the heaviest of hitters treaded carefully when dealing with them. _'Dammit, someone has to stand up and tell them when they're wrong. If not me, then who?'  
_  
After two calming breaths, Arthur clicked the 'Send' button. The chips could fall where they might. _'If I go down, I go down swinging.' _

_To: Selina Wayne  
From: Arthur Morton  
CC: Hogwarts Staff  
Subject: Halloween _

Dear Mrs. Wayne,

Since the demonic invasion of Hogwarts you sponsored on Halloween, my sister has been suffering recurring nightmares. She's not the only one. Two students have quit school with three other being removed by their parents. If my folks knew what happened that night, I have no doubt that Julie and I would be added to that total. There is a petition circulating that calls for Mattie's expulsion on the grounds that her presence is too dangerous to tolerate. (This from people who consider it a mere inconvenience to lose a leg while learning how to apparate.)

I can understand that you want Mattie back safe and sound and will go to any lengths to accomplish that goal. I miss her too. But the collateral damage inflicted by you was simply too great.

What do you intend to do about the harm you've done to people who never harmed you?

Sincerely,  
Arthur Morton

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, November 7, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 18:07  
_**------------------------

Arthur wondered why people had edged away from him all day. '_I took a shower_,' he mused as he booted his laptop to start his Charms homework. His mail client pinged, and he looked at the subject lines. '_Uh, oh. There's a lot about Halloween_.'

_To: Arthur Morton  
From: Severus Snape  
CC: All Hogwarts  
Subject: Re: Halloween _

Mr. Morton:

_Were you perchance accidentally sorted into Gryffindor?_

_SS _

_To: Arthur Morton  
From: Charlie Adams  
CC: All Hogwarts  
Subject: RE: Re: Halloween _

It's been nice knowing you, mate. I'll come to your funeral.

_To: Arthur Morton  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
CC: All Hogwarts  
Subject: Re: Halloween _

Mr. Morton:

_While I admire your courage, relations with other students' families are not your affair. Regarding any petition, may I remind you (and others) that Miss Wayne is a VICTIM here? _

"I saw a copy of your little note, Morton," a soft voice said. "I had not considered a Hufflepuff before." He looked up into Lucille Malfoy's smirking face, when Julie yanked her away, "You go through me to get to my brother, bitch!"

"Miss Morton, your loyalty does you credit," Lucille said, drawing her wand. "Even if it is misdirected..."

"Misdirected or not, Miss Malfoy," Professor Harry said as he grabbed her wand. "Miss Morton was standing up for her brother, something that is not deserving of a curse. If you have finished eating, please proceed to your mother's quarters, you do have homework to submit."

"Of course, Professor," Lucille said politely, nodding to Arthur and Julie. "May I have my wand, please?"

Harry reversed it, handing it back to her as he watched her walk out. Glancing at Arthur, he smiled slightly, "Shall we re-sort you, Mr. Morton, as you seem to enjoy pulling the tiger's tail?"

"By the way, thank you, Arthur, for telling the whole _damned_ school about my nightmares," Julie snapped.

_To: Arthur Morton  
From: Selina Wayne  
CC: All Hogwarts  
Subject: Re: Halloween _

Mr. Morton:

_I was surprised to receive an email from you, and disappointed to learn that some students had left. While I'm aware that Hogwarts has its faults (as do all schools), parents are working with the Headmistress and faculty to resolve them. While student feedback is appreciated, these are not really your concern. Quite honestly, I was disappointed to learn that you have not shared your concerns with your parents. They have your best interests at heart, as do the faculty. As I will be in the Columbus area shortly, I'll be sure to stop by for a cup of coffee. _

_I was distressed to learn students were having psychological problems. One of the ongoing problems we are discussing with the Headmistress is the lack of psychological support for the entire Hogwarts community, both staff and student. Until a permanent position can be filled, I have asked the Headmistress to select a competent professional to be available several times a week at my expense. If someone feels more comfortable with another counselor, I am willing to cover that expense also. _

_I requested Lady Zatanna to choose a few individuals for her investigation team; I admit I should have inquired more closely into her choices. While she led the team, I take responsibility for that lapse in management, and will be visiting Hogwarts tomorrow if you have questions. _

_Regarding 'collateral damage', shall we do a quick review? In Mattie's first year, she was kidnapped twice, the first time in January by Mr. Malfoy, the second time by the late Minister Fudge at Mr. Malfoy's urging. In the first instance, there were three persons injured, in the second, only my daughter. I suggest you consult with those persons regarding damage, and the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch teams. _

_In Mattie's second year, Minister Fudge not only tried to rob her, he personally cast the Cruciatus curse on her while kidnapping her godmother, Ms. Lane. When Minister Fudge tried to close the school by cutting the budget, my daughter came up with a novel financing method to assist. When Minister Fudge, in a truly bizarre scheme, tried to kidnap and ransom the three werewolves in school, including her friend Miss Tonks, Mattie dueled him in her defense. When Minister Fudge tried to personally arrest Miss Tonks and Mr. Lupin, she stood in his way and made him back down (in front of the press, I might add). When the disguised Lucius Malfoy distributed the Imperious potion in the water, we assisted with discovering the solution. _

_In this, Mattie's third year, the subject of your note, she was abducted and cast back in time, allegedly by Miss Malfoy. She was able to deduce a solution and is constructing a means to return. Not content with that, she has rescued another time traveler, and will be bringing her along. I'm sure that Miss Yates will be eager to discuss with you any 'collateral damage'. From the letters and notes Headmistress McGonagall has received from Headmistress Oldridge, as well as a personal visit (courtesy of one of those demons), Mattie has been diligent in protecting the timeline, saving all of your lives. _

_From the descriptions and accounts I have received, the Demon Hella and the Demon Etrigan focused on two students, Miss Malfoy and Mr. Pritchard. Perhaps you are concerned about Etrigan declining to take you and your sister to Hell? That he paid you a compliment? I regret any emotional problems you or your sister may have had, but if I might be brutally frank, Mr. Morton, from where I stand, you've gotten off far lighter than my daughter. _

_Selina Wayne_

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, November 8, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 12:52  
_**------------------------

"Miss Malfoy, please come with us," Tonks asked.

"Trying to arrest me? My solicitor needs to be here," she sneered.

"I am here, Miss Malfoy, and this is not an arrest. You're being committed to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward for treatment," Roger Webster said.

"I think not," Lucille said, Narcissa replying, '_Stupefy_!'. Clearing her throat, she levitated Lucille, "Please excuse us, everyone."

"Finally!" someone said, applause breaking out.

------------------------  
**_Friday, November 11, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 17:09  
_**------------------------

'_I'm going stir-crazy_,' Cassidy thought as she waited for Mattie to arrive. She sighed, looking over the plans again, '_One more trip, maybe two, and then we build. I hope we have enough cash_.'

"I'm home!" Mattie called, and Cassidy replied, "Honey, I baked a cake for the neighbors!"

"You're _such_ a good little wife," Mattie replied, continuing on their series of 'domestic' jokes. "Will there be enough for all? They've got a _lot_ of kids." She inspected Cassidy, "Such a conservative outfit! Miss prim-and-proper, aren't we?"

"We _are_ representing the neighborhood association," Cassidy replied, twirling in her tiny white and blue pleated skirt. "It's a big cake. Will you get the door?"

"Certainly, milady, after you change to something a bit more... conservative."

"Durn it, you don't let me have any fun," Cassidy said.

------------------------

Cassidy, still grumbling about putting on a jumpsuit and boots, placed the box on the table while Mattie talked to the Headmistress. She smiled, strolling over to the stuffiest professor, (Binns), and flirting with him.

"C'mon, work, work, work!" Mattie said, grabbing her elbow.

"You're no fun," Cassidy replied, blowing a kiss to the professor as she left.

------------------------  
**_Friday, November 11, 1379: (Julian)  
Outbound, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 19:34 (relative)  
_**------------------------

"At least we don't have to worry about outbound traffic," Cassidy said. "I'd better go change. How are the engines?"

"So far, purring like a kitten with cream," Mattie said, adding, "As my mom would say. You did a nice job. I don't know how busy the inbound traffic will be, maybe another hour or so to orbit."

Cassidy tapped keys, "Seventy five minutes for the flight, then landing and so forth, sounds about right," she said. "Hopefully this is the last time we have to do this."

"You and me both."

------------------------

Cassidy pulled off her boots, then the jumpsuit and the sport bra, tossing it in the replicator's disposal. Stretching, she did a deep knee bend, '_I've got time for a quick sonic shower_,' she thought, and entered her quarters' small head.

------------------------

"Get along, you!" Mattie heard, and a furious, naked Cassidy thrust Anne onto the flight deck, folding her arms under her breasts, "Look what I found in my shower, Captain. Can we take her back?"

Mattie groaned, "A stowaway. I just called to make the appointment for your exams. These next few weeks the ship's going to be torn apart for the AI's installation, I'll have to fly her back." She glowered at Anne, "Explain yourself."

"Weeks?" Anne wavered, and Cassidy grasped her elbow. "I thought you would'st be gone only a day or two, as before."

"No, I told the Headmistress we would be gone as long as four weeks. This is our last trip. Did you tell anyone you were going?"

"I gave Melanie a sealed scroll she was to pass on tonight," Anne said.

"At least you did that," Mattie said as an alarm chirped. She flicked a switch on the command chair, "We'll sort this out in a minute, for now, Anne will take the helm and Cassidy will assume her usual position for Approach."

"Just look busy, the board's locked out," Cassidy said, holding out the chair. She waited, assuming a head-down position, wrists held behind her as Anne nervously took a seat.

------------------------

"Please state your registration, cargo and purpose," the bored controller said over the comm.

"The _Cassidy Yates_, registered in this system, one crew, one personal slave, no other cargo," Mattie said as Cassidy knelt behind her, head down for the benefit of the controller's view. She grinned to herself as Mattie continued, "Purpose is ship upgrades and medical treatment, control. We have an appointment in the Capital; I'd appreciate a berth there."

"I'm reading a Power Ring, _Yates,_" and Mattie replied, "That's mine. Do I have clearance?"

"Of course, honored Lantern!" the frightened controller said. "Please take vector Alpha nine to bay 193, and welcome!"

"Thank you, control. _Yates_ out." She said dryly, touching controls, "One down."

------------------------

"Now, what the hell do I do with you?" Mattie mused as Cassidy pulled Anne from the chair to stand. "The only thing I can think of is to fly you back after we hit dirt."

"You've already claimed her as crew, Captain," Cassidy said. "She'll have to sign the ship's papers, and you'll have to check her out with the Dock Master."

"Crap. That means tomorrow morning at the earliest," Mattie said, gesturing at the darkening sky. "Anne, it looks like you get one night on a different planet. Go with Cassidy to change, we've got about forty minutes before we land."

------------------------

Cassidy worked at the replicator, then turned to Anne, telling her, "Strip, and put these on."

"But... those are MEN'S clothes!"

"No they aren't. DO IT," Cassidy growled. Anne 'eep'd' and started to unbutton her blouse. "You broke the law, Anne, and you're damn lucky the Captain can fly you back tomorrow. Don't piss her off even more."

Anne's mouth opened as Cassidy continued, "There are three penalties for stowing away: death, enslavement, or Captain's Option." She glowered, "You know what the first one is. The second one is judicial enslavement, which means you get a collar like mine, but there is NO chance to remove it. You're buried in it."

Anne swallowed nervously, "The third is Captain's Option. Legally, aboard her ship, the Captain is one step down from God. You don't know her like I do, but she's incredibly pissed if she's swearing. She's going to fly you back to Hogwarts, and what the Headmistress does to you, I don't know. If you behave yourself, you _may_ still see the future. Are we clear on this? Do you understand how much trouble you're in?"

"Yes, ma'am," Anne said meekly.

Cassidy snorted, "Good. Hurry up; you'll need to help me get dressed." She picked up her 'corset', and stepped into it, wincing as the catheter went in. She squirmed as the other plugs were seated, adding, "I need this as tight as possible. When it's locked on me, give the keys to the Captain."

------------------------

(I see nothing out of order), the Customs inspector said, returning the record chips. (How long will you be staying?)

"Possibly three to four weeks, dock master. My crewman needs a medical procedure, and we know how healer's offices are." The dock master grunted as Mattie continued, "I also need some ship work as well as specialized cargo. Might I contract for a bay umbilical?"

(I can arrange that, ship-mistress. Your docking fees for three weeks are... four kilos, payable in advance.)

Mattie counted coins, "As we do not know how long the healers might take, I think it wisest to pay for the month. Will six kilos do, dock master...?"

(S'aa'z, ship-mistress. You have my com-code if I might assist. Good day.)

Mattie saw him out, raising the boarding hatch. She strolled to the flight deck, motioning Anne through and releasing Cassidy and shoving her through the hatch. Once the hatch was closed, her hands were released, and she dived for her legal pad, writing:

_How much did you give him?_

"Six kilos for the month, we don't know how long the healer will take."

Cassidy nodded, writing:

_See if he can recommend a wholesaler for our stuff. Do we have at least fifteen kilos in the safe? _

"I'm keeping twenty in the ship's safe; the rest goes to the bank."

"Err, 'Bank'?" Anne asked.

Cassidy rolled her eyes, writing:

_Have fun with her, Captain. Please don't forget tools. I gave you my list, didn't I?_ Mattie nodded; Cassidy continued: _The antigravity cart is about shot – see if you can get a deal on a new one. Don't forget cargo nets and things._

"All right, Anne, here's the plan. Does the suit fit all right?" Mattie said, noticing Anne rolling her shoulders.

"The... bra, is it called? It is pinching me, and I am not accustomed to wearing pantaloons, or these tiny knickers."

"You would stand out from the crowd wearing your full skirt, this way you'll blend in. We can get you a halter to wear underneath." There was a muffled 'clank' as the umbilical was connected. "For now, live with it. Once the bank's van arrives for our deposit, we drop Cassidy off for her examinations at the Shipmaster's Hall, and start shopping for our equipment."

------------------------

"Their skin was... orange and they were all bald," Anne said quietly.

"Yes, Anne. Remember the first time I left? I said you hadn't been exposed to other life?" Mattie motioned at the departing van, "There are thousands of intelligent races out there, and not all of them are friendly." Cassidy rocked forward in agreement from where she knelt. Tucking the receipt into her waist bag, Mattie motioned, "We need to get Cassidy to her examinations, and if anyone asks you a question, refer them to me, Anne. No matter what you see or hear, stay calm and save any questions for tonight."

------------------------

"Dock master!" Mattie called, "A moment of your time?" The salmon colored alien paused, (Yes, ship-mistress, how might I assist you?) The small tentacles on his mouth waved as the three approached.

"I was hoping you might have a recommendation for an electronics wholesaler, Dock master," she said. "My client is anxious to work on his project."

(Might I see the requisition?) She handed over a chip, and he looked at his board. (Ah, yes, although I would suggest buying the beams and such from a dockyard fellow I know. You can get the assembly in titanium instead of steel for the same price. Much lighter, he won't pay as much for shipping.)

"True, but my client specified steel, and he has an annoying habit of turning off his comm. Is the dockyard fellow available?

(I happen to be going that way myself. Perhaps I might introduce you?)

Mattie smiled, "Most appreciated, Dock master."

------------------------

(Yes, we can accommodate you, ship-mistress. Unfortunately, my beam-cutter requires a part that is out of stock.) The dockyard contractor, not surprisingly another salmon-colored alien, paused regretfully.

Mattie tisked, "Such a pity, I was hoping to get them cut and loaded. Perhaps you might help me in something else? I am in need of a grav sled and other things that will allow my slave to move these heavy beams and such."

(I believe might locate such a device. Would you like it added in?)

"If it is no more than five hundred grams, she is very weak, you see."

(Perhaps you might wish to trade her in?)

"She is guarantee on a debt, so that is not possible. I have left my cargo bay unlocked; will these have all the correct bolts, tools, cargo nets and such?"

(Of course. Bay 193 you said?)

------------------------

Anne took Cassidy's leash, as Mattie strolled through the market. She paused next to a fountain, her Captain telling her quietly, "I don't like this, there are too many people wearing guns, we'd better arm ourselves." She looked around, "This way."

------------------------

Anne examined the other slaves secured outside the weapons shop, then knelt Cassidy in number six, flipping the stocks closed on her ankles, and locking the ring closed around her neck, pocketing the key. She wiggled, getting comfortable to wait, and the slave to her right nodded at her tight black outfit, asking, "Did you piss off your Mistress?" Cassidy rocked back and forth, shrugging her shoulders.

------------------------

"Hmm. This might be best for you, Anne. Think of the needles as very tiny arrows."

"Surely that little thing cannot hurt a person!"

Mattie looked around, motioning to one of the shop slaves, "Do you have a needler we can practice with?"

"Certainly, Mistress, the range is this way. Static or live target?"

"Live?" Anne asked.

"A cheap slave, Mistress, but the replacement cost is added in to the purchase, however." She swallowed nervously, "If I have displeased you, Mistress, I may serve as your target."

"A static target will do," Mattie interjected. "You have not displeased us, you are dismissed." The slave escaped gratefully, Mattie growling, "See why I hate slavers?" She looked around, "There's the range."

------------------------  
**_Friday, November 11, 1379: (Julian)  
Epsilon Eridani III: 22:30 (relative)  
_**------------------------

"I do not like this... thing, this... gun," Anne complained quietly. Cassidy looked at the holstered needler on her hip, then at Mattie.

She motioned, "I'll tell you later, there's the Shipmaster's Guildhall. We'll sign Cassidy in; then get a meal and our room."

------------------------  
**_Friday, November 11, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 23:00  
_**------------------------

_My dear Minerva, _

_Miss Wayne and Miss Yates have gone off planet again, leaving a large sheaf of notes they request I pass on to you. This is the plans for their time-travel device they will build; in the box is both 'hard copy' and 'electronic' versions, along with the 'settings' they will use. They will be placed in the rear library._

_They have an additional problem. Miss Bundy is apparently so desperate to see the stars, she has stowed away on their ship. Unfortunately, she did not know they would be gone for three to four weeks, as this is both examination times for Miss Yates, and her (hopeful) manumission and the removal of her collar. Miss Yates was exceedingly cheerful, speaking at length with Professor Binns. _

_Alfreda_

------------------------  
**_Saturday, November 12, 1379: (Julian)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Shipmaster's Guildhall: 06:46 (relative)  
_**------------------------

"Wake up, Anne," Mattie said, shaking the girl gently. "Get a shower and get out here, we've got a lot to do." The girl nodded as Mattie stood. "You can use either the water or sonic shower; use the soap in the dark red bottle."

"Shower?"

"Think of water coming down like a waterfall, that's a shower. The three seashells are the sonic; they use sound to clean instead of water." She patted Anne's shoulder. "Ten minutes, all right?"

------------------------

Cassidy stumbled after whoever had her leash, eyes locked closed; still tightly gagged. '_At least I could stretch my legs out last night_,' she thought, thinking of the cell she had shared with other slaves. Her legs had been chained in the center of the cell; her neck ringed to the wall. She couldn't talk, but she could listen in on the other conversations, for a slave cell, it was moderately comfortable. She stopped, and her wrists were released. She was told, "Here you are, first examination, 'Basic shipboard procedures for small craft.' Have a seat and I'll secure you." She didn't even feel the shackles as a helmet was lowered over her head, and the examination came to life in her mind.

------------------------

"Where to, Captain?" Anne asked as she followed Mattie through the breakfast buffet. She spooned the same green eggs onto her plate, choosing a rasher of bacon instead of sausage, and a slice of bread. The milk was a light blue, but she took a glass, resuming her seat.

"We need to get a more advanced computer installed, what's called an 'Artificial Intelligence' to monitor you while you sleep." Mattie replied, adding some yellow sugar to her coffee. She sighed happily as she sipped, "The existing computer isn't up to it. If a problem develops, it can eject you and walk you through fixing the problem. Once that's ordered, I want to buy books on technology."

"Whatever for?"

Mattie held her cup and sipped, "The early twenty first century doesn't have anything like the _Yates_," she explained. "We can use the time-travel device we're building, or the stasis tube to send Cassidy home. Either way, Earth is pretty defenseless against some of the scum out there." She snorted, "Hell, against some in this room. Buying these books gives us a chance to defend ourselves."

"I don't understand," Anne said, sipping her milk. "How will a book help?"

"Let's take something simple, like an arrow. To create that arrow, it has to evolve, first with a straight shaft, then with the fletching, and finally with the steel tip." Anne nodded, "The first arrows were just sticks with a sharp point, which evolved into straight sticks with a sharp point. Along this time, someone figured out how to make metal from stones, but the two technologies weren't connected." Mattie motioned, "Technology builds on itself, like bricks in a wall. What I'm trying to do is to jump from the straight stick to the final arrow, which won't be easy. I haven't figured out how to make the metal point, even though I have one in my hand."

"Ah, I see." Anne said. "The books will tell you how to make the arrowhead, even though you do not know why."

"Exactly, I'm hoping to jump that gap. I hope that some very smart people can figure out the making of that arrowhead, because we desperately need it."

------------------------

"Oh, my," Anne said. Mattie stopped next to her, speaking softly, "It's a judicial slave market, Anne. They're convicted criminals." They looked at the naked beings, chained under pale yellow and green awnings, before moving away.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, November 12, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:08  
_**------------------------

Mattie entered, pushing Anne gently ahead of her. Headmistress Oldridge looked up, and hurried to meet them, "You're both safe, good. I'll let Minerva know, and for _you_, young lady..." She glowered at Anne, then asked, "Miss Wayne, have you both eaten?" Mattie nodded, and Alberta added, "In that case, would you join us in my office?"

------------------------

The Headmistress' tongue-lashing finally ran down, she added, "You have not said anything, Miss Wayne."

She sighed, "I can understand her motivations, and it's the dream of stars. I'm fortunate enough to be able to fly among them; Anne took advantage of my security lapse." She steepled her fingers, "I don't want her expelled; she saw some things that have severely shaken her." The headmistress cocked her head, "A slave market, and several dozen different aliens."

"Aliens?"

"Other forms of intelligent life," Mattie explained. "Not all of them friendly," she added, touching Anne's needler on her hip. She stood, nodding courteously, "If there's nothing else, Headmistress, I need to get back." She passed Anne's wand back to the headmistress, "Her clothes are on board ship, we'll return them when we get back."

"Please give our best wishes to Miss Yates," the headmistress called. As the door closed, she said, "Do sit down, child, and tell me what you saw..."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, November 12, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 13:42  
_**------------------------

"I do thank you, Mrs. Wayne, for coming by to speak to us," Minerva said, as she poured tea. "We have some twenty weeks to build their time-travel device, is that enough?"

"It will have to be, if necessary, we'll borrow parts." Selina said. "In any case, I needed to meet with you, but I do have a two o'clock appointment in London. I was wondering if I might borrow your floo?"

------------------------  
**_Sunday, November 12, 2000: (Gregorian)  
London, The Leaky Cauldron: 13:45  
_**------------------------

Selina sneezed as she stepped out of the floo. "Allow me, Mrs. Wayne," Albus said, dusting her off and repairing a run in her hose. "Your party is in room four, second door on the left."

------------------------

"Mrs. Wayne!" the older woman called, "Please come, have a cuppa, and don't bother with all that foo-frah!"

"Thank you, ma'am," Selina said, only to be waved off, "It's Elizabeth and Sarah, please." Selina smiled as they added, "Now, have a cuppa, and tell me about your daughter, and what we can do to help."

------------------------

"I don't care for the newly elected President Luthor," Elizabeth said. "He'll federalize your daughter's ship, like the one that's in Area 51. I'd much rather it remain private property, and available to all."

"We're agreed, then," Selina said. "I don't mind the British or American militaries getting some tech, but only as spillover from civilian applications."

"There's going to be quite a bit of research to do," Sarah said. "I would suggest spreading it out in penny packets to universities." She sighed, "Much as I would also like to keep it solely British, we can reduce some of the hazard by spreading it out to Europe and North America."

"Speaking of which," Sheila said, "I have something to be analyzed." She produced two half-liter bottles, "Miss Yates extracted these, and gave them to Minerva for us; she didn't want them to degrade over 600 years. This is main engine fuel; this is thruster fuel. I think someone like BP can come up with a blend when they duplicate it."

"One way to spur trade: cheap petrol," Sarah said, to chuckles. "We'll need to have a place to park the ship that's not a military base. Do we have any sort of dimensions?"

"We do," Selina said, passing over several sheets. Sarah looked at them, pursing her lips. "Too tall and long for a standard small aircraft hangar, we'll have to build custom, and we'll have to have it licensed as an experimental craft. Not really a problem, I know a few blokes. What company to hire the space under?"

"Gringotts' Leasing, Ltd," Griplink said, looking up from his own sheets. "We'll file them as privy contracts, and arrange for them to be 'misfiled' in the Crown Court files," he said, nodding courteously at Elizabeth. "Once we have Miss Wayne and Miss Yates safely back, we will contract with them to establish a branch office."

"One problem with that," Selina said. "Minerva told me Mattie will need to attend summer school to catch up. She won't have time to flit about the galaxy, and as for Miss Yates, we hope to return her to her time as quickly as possible."

"Miss Yates will still need identification and such," Sarah said. "If we can scare up a piccy, we can get her done as a British subject."

"There's another girl they're bringing forward in time, a Miss Anne Bundy," Selina said. "I understand Minerva took a picture of the three of them with her cell phone."

"Should be no problem, then," Sarah said. "Now, how do we want to split up the research? I've drawn up a list of what systems I think would be aboard, and what schools are currently tops in that field of research. For instance, Rolls-Royce has always had a strong relationship with... "

------------------------


	10. Interlude One, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
10 – Interlude One, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Monday, November 21, 1379: (Julian)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Shipmaster's Guild: 10:06  
_**------------------------

(Clever slave you've got there. Interested in selling her?) the portly being asked.

"Not right now, how'd she do?"

The attendant sealed Cassidy's ears closed, then motioned Mattie closer; (Lowest score she got was an 89, with a 75 to pass.) He passed over a board, (Impressive scores. I know a few Captains that would be interested in buying her. She easily rates Crewman First. Get her some practical experience and she'll rate Technician Second or higher soon enough.)

"Her records updated with her scores?" Mattie asked. The being nodded, "I owe her an honor debt, she saved my life, took a beam for me. I'll be freeing her, but she doesn't know that."

(I can certainly understand that,) he said. (If she'll be getting her certifications, let me make a few notes.)

"Do I owe you anything else for her?" The being shook his head, and Mattie slipped him a coin, "Let me buy you a drink or two for being so understanding."

(Most appreciated, Captain.) He slid a chip over to her, (Just append a copy of her manumission to that, she shouldn't have any trouble getting work.)

------------------------

Mattie slid the bolt on the room, then released Cassidy's eyes and ears, and freed her hands, passing her a board along with her legal pad. "Want to see your scores?"

_Not bad, not bad at all. If you'll excuse me, I REALLY need to pee!_

"Grab a sonic at the same time, please." Cassidy rocked forward to nod as she caught the keys.

------------------------

"Thank you, gentlebeing," Mattie told the being, who nodded and signed off. She turned to ask Cassidy, "Interested in moving things up a bit?"

_How so, Mistress?_

"There happens to be a slot available with the being that can authorize your manumission, _if_ we can get across town in an hour." Cassidy tossed her legal pad aside; Mattie chuckled, "I thought you'd agree."

------------------------

(Will this slave have the means to support herself once you are finished with her?) the bureaucrat asked. (Only one kilogram of your fee is given to the newly freed slave, experience shows this is seldom adequate.)

"She was examined by the Spacer's Guild, her scores are appended to her record," Mattie said, "They are also on this record chip."

(So they are,) he mused. (You could sell her for several kilos now, you know.)

"I owe her an honor-debt, she took a beam for me," Mattie explained.

(This will not remove her collar, you understand. It will simply be deactivated, and her records will be updated.)

"Understood, would you add a certified copy to her record chip?"

(Of course,) he said as he stood, (This way, girl.)

------------------------

"Thank you, Mis... Captain," Cassidy said, examining her reflection. She fingered her deactivated collar, "It looks weird without the lights. What next?"

"For now, you open a bank account, so the _Yates_ can pay her First Officer and Engineer. Then, I'll buy you a proper ship suit, and then," Mattie grinned, "a drink."

"You're too young, Captain," Cassidy teased.

"Spoilsport."

------------------------

"Feeling better?" Cassidy asked; needler in her hand.

"No," Mattie said, rubbing her head. "I have a headache, my hair hurts and why are you shouting?"

"You're hung over," she replied. "Pareek't juice has the same effect as whiskey on our type of humanoids. It's not a toxin..."

"Which is why my ring didn't alarm..." Mattie sat upright, "Alarm! Your appointment! Your collar!"

"Handled, Captain," Cassidy patted her wrist. "Meet some of the local abolitionists. They'll get us there in time."

------------------------

"Hang on to this, would you, Captain?" Cassidy asked, handing Mattie the holstered needler as she followed the nurse. She absently adjusted it, buckling it around her own waist as the receptionist handed her a board with forms. She crossed the waiting room to her chair, next to the kneeling Korugarian slave girl. She asked quietly, "What's your name, and tell me why a slave girl is with a group of abolitionists?"

(Call me Tomia, Mistress. I volunteered for the collar; I can pick up intelligence that you cannot. Masters tend to forget that their slaves have eyes, ears, and functioning brains.) The red-skinned girl smiled briefly, (Thank you, but don't worry about me, please.) She nodded at the receptionist's window. (The healer here splits out his fees. A third goes for his expenses, a third go to a private savings account, and a third to training and certifications for his slaves. When the savings reaches a certain point, or the head girl has all her healer's certifications, he'll free her, remove her collar, and hire her as a healer.) She looked about the quiet room, (The head girl has bypassed three chances for her freedom; she wants an exo-neurology certification.) She smiled quietly, (Need some help with the forms? She won't be processed until they're turned in.)

------------------------  
**_Saturday, November 25, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Slytherin table: 12:27  
_**------------------------

Sprink poked at her bowl of potato soup; mumbling, "I miss Mattie."

"We all do," Felicia said hesitantly. "We'll see her again in April."

"But she'll miss _Christmas_!" Sprink howled, dropping her sandwich in the soup.

"No, it'll just be delayed a few months, and you'll have a new housemate to shop for," Charlie said. "Re-read her last letter, you'll feel better."

_Friday, November 11, 1379 _

_Sprink, the study group, and Slytherin House, _

_Wow, only four weeks until Christmas! Hope you're all doing well, I miss you guys, but I'll see you April first! _

_It looks likely that Anne will be coming forward in time. I'm sure the Bundy clan will take care of their new kin, but I have a request for you lot. _

_Help her. She'll need it. _

_Remember, she's coming from a time when a steel sword and horse-drawn cart is the latest thing. Where the Black Death is still a threat, where she may have seen older family members die from it. (Hogwarts, and Anne, is free of it.) Where a horse-drawn cart would go down the village street every morning, someone calling, "Bring out your dead!" She's coming from a time when an aunt, uncle, or cousin would be buried in a mass grave, as there wasn't room in the churchyard. _

_Hogwarts is unusual in that it's a co-educational school, but there are only 26 female students (not counting me) of a total of 112 students. They live together in the 'girl's tower', what you know as the Astronomy tower. A gender line is advanced magic (which they practice freely, in public), they've never heard of the Unforgivables. Professor Binns is alive, head of Hufflepuff, and even duller. Peeves is alive, a bitter old man, and groundskeeper. They have a 'Modern Languages' class (mandatory) for Latin and Greek, and Alchemy (taught by Professor Flamel) instead of Potions. Parchment is rare and expensive, classes are memorization and rote learning._

_They do not know that North and South America, or Australia exists. They've heard of the 'Moors' but don't know it's a continent called Africa. They have relatives that have been on the Crusades. They have heard of the 'Mongols' and the 'Tatars' but only know they're from 'The East'. They've heard of China, think Tokyo is there, and many are firmly convinced the world is flat. _

_So, why am I bringing this girl forward in time? First, according to what Professor McGonagall says, she will 'die' this coming March, thus preserving the timeline. Kelly and Karen report their clan history confirms the date and manner of her death. (More on that in a moment!) Secondly, this girl is possibly the most brilliant person here! She has a brain to rival Einstein's! It is a sin to leave her in the Dark Ages! _

_So, how does she 'die'? In despair, learning she cannot, after all, journey forward to the future; she throws herself off the top of the Girls' tower. Very sad, she's buried, life goes on. _

_Actually, Headmistress Oldridge transfigures a pig (you know what my Transfig skills are like!), we dress it in her identical clothes, and we throw THAT off the tower. Anne is actually in stasis aboard the Yates, where she'll sleep for 600 years before awakening. _

_Yes, you lot will be able to see the Yates, a genuine starship. Cassidy and I have flown it back and forth to Epsilon Eridani, which is just less than ten light years away. _

_From what Professor McGonagall says, I will most likely have to take summer school to get caught up with you lot. I'm sure that Anne will be right next to me, just as confused. I'll be renting a room at the Cauldron (which hasn't been built yet), Aunt Sheila's taking care of that. _

_What do I want for Christmas? For you lot to take care of Anne. Answer, and explain, what she'll have no idea of. Let her try out new things, and don't push her to get rid of her floor-length dresses and button shoes. Be gentle with her. _

_I'm just returning the favor, after all.  
Mattie_

------------------------  
**_Saturday, November 26, 1379: (Julian)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Healer's office: 16:19  
_**------------------------

"Oh, did someone get the number of that truck?" Cassidy said as she was helped out of the auto-doc.

(There were a few problems, we had to work on your nervous system,) the healer said. (Parts of one of your lobes were actually damaged, never fear, we've repaired it. Your Captain is here with some fresh clothing for you.)

"Thank you, doc," Cassidy said, feeling her neck. "It's actually gone."

(It's right here in this box, actually,) the healer said with a chuckle. (You'll feel a little groove in your neck where the transceiver was embedded in your spinal cord. A little higher... yes, feel it?) Cassidy nodded, (Your Captain asked about the conditioning you've undergone, with her consent, we've taken the liberty of removing what we could, including the older memes.)

"Older memes?" Cassidy asked, looking sharply at him.

(Yes, from several years ago, before you were collared,) he explained. He cocked his head, (Did we err? You are displaying agitation.)

"No, no, healer, I just was not aware of them," Cassidy took several deep breaths, and forced a smile, "I am most grateful to you and your staff, healer."

(Then I shall leave you alone with your Captain,) the healer said, bowing as he left. The door slid shut, Mattie asking, "Cassidy?"

"Those stinking, lousy BASTARDS!" she hissed. "It must be my damned parents, they programmed me like a COMPUTER to be a god-damned submissive! So the timeline would have their precious 'One'!"

"Cassidy? Shouldn't I have... I mean, you've complained about the slave conditioning..."

"And when he asked, you thought I wanted them gone?" Cassidy took a few deep breaths, lurching up from her chair, and waving off Mattie. "I'm not mad at you; you thought you'd carry out my wishes. I've complained about the conditioning, after all. I don't blame you, and you couldn't ask." She leaned against the wall, head down, still nude.

"Well, yes, he said he had discovered additional conditioning, overlaying the 'native' memes, and that he could remove it." She shrugged, "I thought it was more slave conditioning, so I told him to go ahead, as he couldn't go back later."

"It is. It was, rather. My k'hesting FAMILY did it! Well, the HELL with all of them!" Cassidy spun, then shook her head and leaned back against the wall. "You want to know your history? I'll tell you, and they..."

"NO! Don't tell me!" Mattie slapped her hand over Cassidy's mouth, "How many people do you want to kill?" She gazed into Cassidy's infuriated face, "CALM down. We'll think of something that won't cause death on a planetary scale. Deep breath, now. Another one. That's it, one more... Good. Feeling better?" Cassidy nodded, and Mattie removed her hand. "Good. I've been here since Thursday morning; we could both use a shower, a meal, and a very long nap."

Cassidy slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "It's Friday morning, isn't it?"

"Late Saturday afternoon. You've been under the doc's care for about four days; I've been here since you went in the autodoc Thursday morning with complications." She slid down the wall next to Cassidy, "I've been in that chair waiting, biting my knuckles and worrying. I _think_ I got a couple hours sleep in there somewhere."

"We still got a hotel room?"

Mattie snorted, "I called the Temple and explained one of my crew was undergoing a medical procedure that had run into complications. They were very solicitous, sent their best wishes and all. I don't know about you, but unless you want takeout, we'll stoop to room service."

"You? Miss 'Squeeze a gram until it bleeds'?" Cassidy snorted, "What about our driver?"

"Last I heard, she was in one of the cells in the back." With a groan, Mattie stood, "I'll go check on her, and settle our bill. The tan duffle has your new clothing; the black has your old gear. Fifteen minutes or so?"

------------------------

(Wake up, girl,) one of the healer's slaves said, as Mattie stood by and yawned.

(She is well? Her collar was removed?) The young female said as she sat up on the steel bunk, leaning against the concrete wall as she rubbed a spot on her bare foot.

(She is, and it was,) the first said with a smile. (There is hope for all of us.) She unlocked the small door in the chain-link fence, hanging the padlock on the fence. (Fetch out your bucket, please.) She turned to Mattie, (She will be out in a minute, Mistress, as soon as her bucket is emptied and she has washed.)

Mattie nodded, "Good," she addressed Tomia, "Do you feel well enough to drive us to the Temple, and do you know a place where we can get food? Someplace fast, cheap and good?"

(Yes, Mistress, I do,) she smiled. (However, Mistress must pick two of the three for her meal.)

"Good and fast, and I'm including you." She smiled, "I'll call your shop to let them know about you."

(I am honored, Mistress. I know just the place; I shall be with you shortly.)

------------------------

"Mmm. Pass the purple stuff, please," Mattie looked over at the young slave, "Please don't tell me what this is, I'll lose my appetite."

(As Mistress wishes, if she will pass the green vegetables,) she replied. (I must say, you are not at all like the story told in dockyard pubs.)

"What story?" Cassidy asked.

(Why, 'The Lantern and the Slave',) she said. (Haven't you heard it?)

Mattie sighed, as Cassidy laughed, "This one I've got to hear..."

------------------------

(...and so the Lady Lantern storms out, dragging her terrified slave behind her!)

"Oh, that's a good one!" Cassidy said, still laughing. "That poor, poor slave, such a horrible life!" and she dissolved into laughter again.

Mattie tried to keep her frown, but a persistent lip-twitch had developed. "Most amusing," she tried to say, then grinned, and stood. "This Lantern wishes for two things, a nice hot shower and a soft bed. She invites her two companions to join her in these endeavors."

"Would my Captain be interested in a hot bath, instead?" Cassidy asked, the young slave sighing, (It has been years...)

"Well, are you coming, or not?" Mattie asked her.

(As Mistress' bath girl?)

"No, as Mistress' companion," Cassidy corrected. "We'll scrub each other's backs, including yours."

(If Mistresses are serious?) They nodded, but Tomia dithered, (I need to call in, though...)

"I already did. You're going to have one pleasant evening, we're keeping you out overnight," Cassidy said.

Tomia smiled, (Let me get some stasis boxes then. The food does not do well overnight, otherwise.)

------------------------

"I may be mistaken, but didn't I hear the healer say he repaired damage to one of my lobes?" Cassidy asked, as she lazily scrubbed Tomia's back.

She sighed as Mattie said, "You did. Why?"

"Well... if that's true, then I've gotta 'fess something to you, Captain. Have to be later, though." She glanced at the girl, "Sorry."

(No new tidbit of news to bring back? My cage-mates will be very disappointed in me.)

"Life is hard," Cassidy admitted.

Tomia heaved herself out of the tub, (Once I have dried Mistresses, I shall prepare a place to chain myself, then.)

"We are perfectly capable of drying ourselves, and we have two bedrooms," Mattie grinned, "Each with two beds. You will sleep in a real bed tonight."

(But... if Mistresses plan to take me, I do not have the key to my belt!)

Cassidy yawned, "While that sounds like fun, I for one really need sleep, and the Captain here is ready to pass out in the tub." She pulled herself out, "Toss me a towel, would you?"

------------------------  
**_Sunday, November 27, 1379: (Julian)  
Epsilon Eridani III, Dock 193: 06:07  
_**------------------------

(Here we are, Mistress, Dock 193. Will the Captain sign the bill?)

Cassidy got out, opening the cargo hatch as Mattie replied, "The Captain will, and wishes the slave girl all the best. I will not see her again. Do you have contact information? For your... other job?"

(My... Oh! If Mistress will pass me her board?) She wrote a name, (That is not an actual name, of course. If Mistress is thinking of investing, invert the last two digits on your receipt.) She smiled as she passed Mattie's board back, (This slave girl wishes Mistress all the best, and thanks her for the most restful evening I have had in my collar. Farewell.)

------------------------

"Good morning, Alfred," Mattie said.

"Good morning to you, Captain. Might I inquire as to the identity of the young lady accompanying you?"

"This is first officer and engineer Cassidy Yates. You may have her down as former slave Cassidy Yates, she's been manumitted and had her collar removed."

"_Very_ good," Alfred said. "Miss Yates, if you would be so kind as to insert the chip with your licenses, and certificate of manumission?" Cassidy took a seat, inserting her chip, Alfred saying, "All is in order; my access databases are updated. Officer Yates, would you please insert a hand in the auto-doc for DNA and authentication purposes?"

Cassidy did, as Mattie took a seat, "Alfred, I'm not comfortable having you as a slave. How do I free you?"

"By recording a chip doing so, with Officer Yates counter-signing on it. A freed AI is traditionally accorded the rank of Second Officer, and as I do not have biological needs, the traditional salary of one gram a month. Once the chip is sent and acknowledged by the Spacemaster's Guild, my manumission is recorded. I shall then open an account for myself at a local bank."

Cassidy asked, "Out of curiosity, how many manumitted AI's are there right now?"

"On the planet's surface, there are currently fourteen of three hundred seventy two, in orbit and in transit, six of eight hundred three. These are much larger ships that are not atmospheric-capable."

"There will be fifteen in a minute," Mattie said. "Begin recording, please."

------------------------

"I have received my acknowledgement from the Shipmaster's Guild," Alfred announced. "If it is suitable, I shall update the ship's records. Captain, do you wish to backdate salary for Officer Yates and myself? Shall I use Guild Scale for Officer Yates' salary?"

"Yes to both, please backdate Cassidy's to ship's purchase and yours to installation," Mattie said. She tapped her finger, "Alfred, we're in the process of building a time machine to return Cassidy and myself to our proper times. If you scan the purchased items list, can you suggest any improvements?"

"I see. What is the purpose of the library selections?"

"To build the infrastructure to support a spacegoing economy once we return back to the future," Cassidy said. "Six hundred years for the Captain, a little over a thousand for me."

"Very good, Officer Yates. Reviewing scans of our home system, I can understand this."

"I would appreciate your research into these two areas, Alfred." Mattie said, patting the console.

------------------------

"Captain, I have those research results," Alfred said, "Might I inquire as to what your time frame is for this project?"

"Final deadline is April first, about sixteen weeks away," Cassidy said, "What have you found for us?"

"Primarily power generation and routing, Officer Yates. There is a power plant that will meet your specifications, and is available locally, including all required cabling." The display scrolled as Alfred asked, "Where do you plan to install it?"

"In an occupied building, Alfred," Mattie said. "Is there any possibility of danger to the inhabitants? Radiation, explosions, and so forth?"

"Negative, it is a standard power plant using quantum shifting to allow direct conversion of matter to energy, nearly identical to the power plants aboard this ship. Shall I order it?"

"Please do, with at least a ton of fuel, specify delivery as quickly as possible, and pad the delivery costs by twenty percent," Mattie said. "Can you use the existing three reactors?"

"I can, with the appropriate adapters. I shall add them to this order. Regarding your literature, I have the following suggestions..."

"Get them, electronic and hard copy both, please. Same delivery?"

"I am already downloading the electronic copies," Alfred said. "Hard copies are available with a two day delivery."

------------------------  
_**Tuesday, November 29, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, **Cassidy Yates**: 19:59  
**_------------------------

With a soft whine, the small white ship floated over the Great Hall, landing gear swiveling and locking into position as skids rotated over the tires. With a crunch it landed, breaking through the falling snow covering the ice, the rear cargo hatch facing the heavy oaken entrance doors. As the snow fell, it accumulated on the weather screen, giving a 'tent' effect as the snow was suspended half a meter over the hull plates. With a 'clank', the cargo hatch unlocked, lowering to allow Cassidy and Mattie to leave. With a grin, Cassidy gathered up a snowball, tossing it at the approaching Headmistress.

"Miss Yates! Have you no respect for your elders?" she called, following it up with her own snowball, which was deflected by the screen. "I call foul! You are sheltered!"

"All's fair in love and war, milady!" Cassidy replied, moving away and lobbing another snowball, which landed on Augustus. He snorted, "Common wench!" he called, smiling, "This is how Lord Malfoy replies to such!" as he threw his.

"Lord Malfoy, you dare to strike at my crewmate? Feel my wrath!" Mattie called, throwing hers as she took one from Anne, who giggled. "You dare attack your Captain, wench! Thirty lashes with a wet noodle!" as she pegged one at Anne.

"Enou..." the Headmistress called, but received half a dozen before she could finish.

"We must defend our liege lady!" Professor Flamel called, throwing a snowball in the general direction of the students.

"To arms, to arms!" Augustus called, "Strike me down these foul usurpers!"

------------------------

_29 November, 1379 _

_My dearest Minerva,  
I confess I am still a-giggle from this evening's snowball fight. It started about eight o'clock as Miss Wayne and Miss Yates' ship returned, almost buried under a heavy snowfall. I know not if it is typical of your day, or 'twas the snow, but it makes almost no noise, you cannot hear it more than a few yards away. They have left the rear entry open; one can see it filled with various bits. _

_The fight started when Miss Yates (who is finally freed of her damnable collar!) threw a snowball at me as we approached. Well, I could not let this challenge go unmet, only to have my return missile rejected by an invisible barrier. Naturally, I called foul at this, Miss Wayne and Miss Yates moving away, into what developed as a faculty versus student contest! Even Professor Binns participated, although his arm is not that strong (or accurate!). He did wind up lying in the snow, giggling as we formed 'snow angels' and stamped out various messages in the snow. _

_Most finally moved indoors, although some persisted in building 'snow forts', Miss Yates taking the Gryffindor side whilst Miss Wayne the Slytherin. Some ninety minutes later, they all came in, loudly debating which side won. This evening, Miss Yates will be guesting in the girl's tower, a hot bath persuading her. _

_As for me, hot tea in hand, I close,  
Alberta Oldridge _

------------------------  
**_Thursday, November 30, 2000: (Gregorian)  
London, St. Mungo's locked psychiatric ward: 13:53  
_**------------------------

"Time to cage the nundu, mates," the duty nurse said to the two orderlies as she cancelled the spell locking the ward doors. "Hello, Gilderoy," she added to the perpetually smiling man who was covering sheet after sheet with 'joined-up writing'.

He smiled even brighter, "Have you come for me today?"

"No, this is Lucille's turn. You see Healer Fairburn on Tuesdays, remember?"

"This isn't Tuesday?" Gilderoy said excitedly. "Healer Fairburn is always so eager to see my joined-up writing!"

"No, Gilderoy, today's Thursday. See, that's what the calendar says," she added, pointing to the magically updating calendar. "It says, 'Thursday' for today." She smiled at his expression, "We really must go, today's Lucille's turn." Gilderoy wandered away as she shook her head, "Poor dear, every day's Tuesday for him." Geoff had relocked the doors, she approached Lucille's bed, wary.

Lucille Malfoy had a mercuric temper, and was both powerful and dangerous, surprising in a twelve-year old girl. She wore the highest-rated magic-blocking bands on her wrists and throat (normally only required on the wand hand, but she was ambidextrous. The third blocked spoken, wandless spells.). The four orderlies and three nurses assigned to this ward used blood-matched wands, ensuring the sometimes-violent inmates could not use a wand if they managed to steal one. (Gilderoy, though not violent, was an escape artist.) She was in savage denial of her femininity (which would not ordinarily have confined her here), but venerated the Dark Lord, and had demonstrated a command of Dark and Black magic, as well as an obsession to kill three specific persons. She also claimed to have been an executed Roman slave, and was destined to rule Hell as its Queen.

Mary smiled, "Hello, milord, how are you today?" Malfoy responded best if you were polite and deferential to her.

"As well as one can expect," the girl replied. "I gather today's my visit with that half-wit healer. At least the luncheon today was... tolerable."

"For what it's worth, the food in the staff room isn't much better," Mary admitted, Geoff snorting agreement. "If you would see your way clear regarding the house-elves..."

"Be _polite_ to them? _Thank_ them? Who do you think I am?"

"Just don't _beat_ them, that's all we ask, Lady Malfoy." Mary's eyes widened at her slip, feminine pronouns weren't to be used with this patient.

Fortunately, Lucille didn't hear it, or acted if she didn't. After considering for a few minutes, she lifted her chin, "I agree."

"Excellent," Samuel, a mountain of a lad smiled, "Please put your heavy robe on, milord. It is winter, and the corridors are chilly. Perhaps we can go by the nurse's station, see if there's any good brownies left to nick."

"That would be... acceptable," Lucille allowed, and moved to get her robe.

------------------------

Lucille rode, secured in her wheelchair, left arm free to hold a small plate of fudge brownies in her lap as she delicately nibbled on one. Geoff called, "Hold tight, milord, some stairs here," Lucille placing her brownie back in the plate and holding it, then nodding for Samuel to levitate her chair.

------------------------

"Oh, my," Healer Fairburn asked, "Are those _brownies_? They weren't on the menu..."

"We nicked them from the nurse's station for milord," Samuel said, parking Lucille's wheelchair next to the doctor's desk. "'E's also agreed not to beat the elves, he has."

"Unless they deserve it, of course," Lucille added. She looked out the spelled window, sighing, "Ah, the sun. I do so miss my solarium. Pity Wayne destroyed my house when I 'guested' her and her mates."

"Some guests are simply rude, milord," Healer Fairburn agreed. "Why don't we discuss that whilst Samuel here nicks down to the kitchens for a few more brownies?"

"I've always found a large glass of milk the very thing to go with brownies," Geoff said, Malfoy replying, "If you please."

------------------------

_Case notes: Malfoy, Lucille _

_30 November, 2000  
Hallelujah, at last a chink in her armour! Miss Lucille is positively co-operative with the bribery of brownies (hard crust and gooey interior) and a liter glass of milk. However, an initial plate must be 'nicked' from the nurse's station, subsequent plates must also be 'nicked' from different locations along the route from her ward. This requires a bit of deft, authentic play-acting from the orderlies and nurses; we must make sure to inform the appropriate personnel. We must also reinforce the usage of masculine terms of respect with her, couching any extremely reasonable requests in this style. This is how Nurse Higgens managed to persuade Miss Malfoy to agree not to beat the elves – she has broken one elf's legs with her wheelchair. (Unless, of course, it was a 'deserved' beating.) _

_We shall also discontinue the 'feminine insistence' style of therapy, while Miss Lucille can be most feminine (a leftover from her mother/wife Narcissa's approach), she is still in denial of this. She is clearly a Slytherin (even though sorted into Gryffindor); therefore any changes must be done with subtlety. As a Hufflepuff myself, I shall need to consult with some of the few Slytherins on staff to ensure my plan succeeds. For now, a simple 'laundry mixup' will give her more masculine sleepwear and sheets, instead of the 'girly' nightdresses and such she had been getting, and detests.  
Robert Fairburn, Healer _

------------------------  
**_Sunday, December 4, 1379: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 08:07  
_**------------------------

"Anne! A minute?" Mattie called from the cargo bay where she was working with Cassidy. Augustus and Melanie paused, Cassidy calling, "Well, come in, don't stand in the snow!" They waited, looking about as Melanie said, "It's warm! And yet," she stuck her hand through the screen, "'Tis still snowing!"

"What are you doing?" Augustus asked.

"Subassemblies, smaller parts that fit together to make a larger one," Cassidy replied. "As you might have gears to transfer a waterwheel's energy ninety degrees," she demonstrated with her hands.

"'Tis a marvelous steel..." he admitted, stroking a beam, as Cassidy grinned, "You expected wood?"

"I am shamed to admit it, but yes, I did."

"Nothing to be shamed of," she said cheerfully. "You're used to working with wood, that's all." Mattie re-entered with Anne, Cassidy cheerfully adding, "I wish you all a very happy and safe Christmas. We'll see you again in January?"

"If the Lord is willing, you shall," Augustus said, "In return, our best felicitations to you both. Happy Christmas," and with the crunch of snow and a wave, they were gone.

------------------------

"Halt! Hand over your gold!" the highwayman called as he rode up to the carriage.

"You fool! There be wiz..." the driver said, as an arrow tore through his throat.

"Open up in there, and bring out your gold!" the leader called, thumping on the carriage with his sword. After a minute, a young man with snow-white hair stepped down, while two young women descended from the other side.

Augustus looked up, "You have killed my man. I demand justice."

"Demand all you wish, but hand over your gold."

"I have something much more interesting than gold," Augustus smirked, drawing his wand. "'_Adflictatio_!' he shouted, and the highwaymen dropped, screaming in agony.

------------------------

"You fired the arrow that killed my man," Augustus drawled lazily. "Did he not try to warn you that he carried wizards?"

"Milord, he did, but I was under orders..."

"Silence," he said. "Who gave the order? Was this the scum?"

"Yes, milord..."

"A life for a life, snap your bow, and use the string to decorate that branch with him. I require a driver, you are my choice. Unless you wish to take his place?"

------------------------  
**_Friday, December 23, 1379: (Julian)  
London, The Strand, Bundy Estate: 20:52  
_**------------------------

"Anne, come, walk with me," Robert told his daughter as he pulled on his coat. She joined him, boots crunching on the snow as they walked in silence, breath puffing in white clouds. He stopped, brushing off a bench with a view of Westminster. They sat; his arm companionably about her in silence for a time until he asked, "What is wrong?"

"I am... conflicted," she admitted. "I gave my oath to the Headmistress not to speak of this to the family, but it does involve you." She looked up into his brown eyes, "May I tell you something in confidence? Something that you may not speak of to any?"

"May I speak of this to your mother? If it involves you, she will surely curse me if I do not."

"This part, aye, you might, but only to her, and she must maintain the silence." He nodded, "At the beginning of the year, we had a most unusual visitor at school; she is... she is a time traveler."

------------------------

"Amazing," Robert mused. "Not only one, but _two_ travelers, and a ship to sail the stars," he shook his head. "Were I not convinced of your truth, I would think you touched in the head." He looked at his daughter, "Yet there is more? Is this part where you cannot speak of?"

"Nay, father. Here I must confess a crime to you, a solicitor. I stowed away on board their ship, and actually visited another planet." She swallowed, "I saw _life_, father. Forms of life to beggar description, in shapes not our own, and all the colours of the rainbow. I saw intelligent life that ranged from waist height and orange to twelve feet, and covered with fur." She turned on the bench, "I regret to say that I did also see slave markets, like I hath seen on London's docks, but these were criminals, not people stolen from their native lands as the Moors do."

"I see. The captain, what did she do?"

"She flew me back the next day, _without the ship_, and delivered me to the Headmistress. She, the Headmistress, did scold me loud and long, and then when Miss Wayne had left, did beg of me to tell my experiences."

"She flew? Without the ship?"

"Aye, we were surrounded by a green cloak, and flew back in a trice," Anne said, holding up her hand. "Please, father, I understand it none better than you."

"You have been punished by the ship's mistress, and by the school's Headmistress, I will not gainsay them," Robert said. He looked at his daughter, "That, though, is not what disturbs you." He held up his hand, "Before you break your oath, let me see if I might deduce it." He gazed at her; saying, "This Miss Wayne is it?" Anne nodded, "She has invited you to join them?"

Anne exhaled, "Aye, and I have not broken my word. They..."

Her father held up a hand, "Speak not. They have a safe way to do this, otherwise they would not say it," he mused. He stood, pacing a little ways; then returning. "To when?" he asked.

"The first of April, two thousand and one," Anne replied softly.

"Six hundred twenty one years," he marveled. "I see your dilemma. If you go, we will be naught but dust and bones in a tomb, and yet, my child, I would see you seize this chance. You are far too bright, and there is naught for you here, but will you have kin?"

"Aye," Anne said softly, "One kinswoman is an instructor at Hogwarts; the other is a seventh-year, and Quidditch captain. Miss Wayne has said she will be at my side, as will her friends." She smiled crookedly, "She calls it, 'Returning the favor', as we have looked out for her, and her boon companion, Miss Yates."

"Ah, Miss Yates. Tell me of her."

"She is from even farther afield, the year of our Lord 2390," Anne said. "They have both been frustrated with life here, which they refer to for some reason as the 'Dark Ages'." Her father leaned against the stone wall, motioning to her, "It is primarily little things that one might take for granted that we have not yet discovered or invented. Still, they have both been zealous in guarding the timeline, the flow of time, as like a stream."

"Good," Robert said. "I can see problems there."

"As can we," Anne nodded. "They have chosen the safest route for me, that of sleeping for those six hundred years, whilst they build a device to carry them forward, upstream. Their problem is that they do not know for certain if it will work, but they only have one sleep capsule."

"Which they gift to you," her father breathed. "I cannot fault their generosity... Anne, know that your mother and I will always love you. You must make your own decision, but 'twere I you... "

"But... when I leave to return to school, I will be leaving _forever_!" Anne cried.

"Aye, love, 'tis your decision," He drew his wand, lighting the tip, "Let us go in, we shall say naught to your mother, for now. Should you decide to go, please write her a privy letter."

------------------------  
**_Monday, December 25, 2000: (Gregorian)  
Grandview Heights, Morton home: 11:03  
_**------------------------

"Now that we're all finished acting like maniacs," Momma Morton said, "We've got one left." The heavy package edged forward, as if it was asking, 'Is it time for me?'

"From Mattie to the Mortons" Henry read, picking it up. "Who wants to do the honors? Arthur?"

"Bill, think you can?" he asked his younger brother, who cheerfully ripped off the paper.

"It's a book," he said, "It's 'The Complete History of Hogwarts'." He put a hand on the clasp, and it flipped open. "Weird, there's sections blank."

"Wizarding books can be weird," Julie said. "Let's try this, 'Find: Book Layout' she told the book, and it flipped to the front section. She read, "As this is a comprehensive history of Hogwarts from its founding, sections will appear blank, as they have not yet occurred at the time of reading." Looking up, she said, "Cool!" She told the book, "Find: Morton family." The book flipped open:

**Morton, Arthur Donald**: b. 19Feb. 1987 Philadelphia, PA, USA, Hufflepuff.

Etrigan, Demon: Defended sister Julia (see) 31 October 2000.

Records: Points, most daily (250)

Spells: Arcus (created 1998)

'_At least my 'second sight' isn't in there_,' Arthur thought.

**Morton, Edmund Harold**: b. 3Jan. 1864 Bristol, Avon, England, d. 14May 1966 Detroit, Michigan, USA; Ravenclaw. Son: Michael Mark (squib).

Notable Achievements: British Ministry of Magic (Marine) 1888-1913, emigrated to USA 1913, American Ministry of Magic (Marine) 1919-1941; Midwest Mages Alliance (Michigan Mages Alliance before 1951) 1922- (Treasurer 1950-1960, President 1960-1965), Magic Defense Research Council 1941-1945.

**Morton, Julia Alexandra ("Julie")**: b. 29May 1989, Columbus, OH, USA, Gryffindor.

Etrigan, Demon: See brother Arthur: 31 Oct 2000.

**Morton, William Stephen Jr. ("Little Bill")**: b. 17Dec 1990, Columbus, OH, USA, Hogwarts letter issued 21Dec 2000.

"Yes! I'm in!" Bill said excitedly.

"Which one of you is going to tell me about this demon?" Elena asked.

"Not me," Arthur and Julie said simultaneously.

------------------------


	11. Week Nineteen, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
11 – Week Nineteen, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:09  
_**------------------------

"Hello, Miss Yates, would you..." Alberta stopped, asking "What are you doing, and who is... THAT?"

"Thank you for saying 'who' instead of 'what'", Alfred's holographic head said from above the remote. "My name is Alfred, you are conversing with my remote, and we are testing the placement of various components."

"I see... no, I do not. What do you mean?" the Headmistress asked.

"We have to make sure everything fits in the proper place in this hall," Mattie said from under a beam. She wiggled about, throwing a leg over the beam, adding, "We don't want to disrupt traffic here any more than necessary."

"That's why we're doing it now, and why we've got hinges on each arm," Cassidy added. "Once we've got everything zeroed out, we can just fold two of the arms up to move them out of the way." She grinned, "For once, luck is on our side. Because we're playing with time, our deadline of April first isn't fixed on our side, but it is on theirs. We could start in June and meet them in April."

The Headmistress shook her head, "Again, please?"

"Um, let's try this," Mattie said, sitting on the floor. "You're meeting someone at a particular crossroads in a particular village. There are two ways to get there, one is longer than the other, but they both have the same endpoint, the same destination, right?" The Headmistress slowly nodded, "If a bridge is out, I can go the other way, and still meet them at that one particular spot."

"A gross generalization," Alfred commented.

Cassidy had sat on a beam, when Alberta sighed, "I shall have to think on it. I did wonder, what was that noise?"

Mattie looked at Cassidy, "I don't hear anything. Alfred, you hear anything?"

"No, Captain. However, the tertiary channel B flux capacitor is five angstroms out of alignment," the portable replied.

"Frack," Cassidy looked up, "What did it sound like?"

"A cricket."

"Sorry, I've never heard a cricket. I was born on Mars station, y'see."

"I had wondered why you were fatigued, Officer Yates," Alfred said. "Perhaps she is referring to your wrench?"

Cassidy spun the socket, "Is that it?" The Headmistress nodded, Alfred commenting, "Another mystery resolved. Would you like a grav-belt, Officer Yates?"

Cassidy looked at the clock, "Thank you, no, I've adapted. I'd like lunch, though. Anyone else interested?"

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts Express, Northbound: 13:22  
_**------------------------

"It's a good thing you were able to get the flight home and back, Arthur," Connie Koslowski said. "Especially after pissing off Mrs. Wayne."

"_Someone_ had to say it," he grumbled. "She shouldn't have summoned demons."

"_She_ did not do it, Senor Morton," Tomas said. "It would also have been terribly rude not to offer you a way to school." He shifted in his seat, "Did I read you the latest letter from my sister?" He pulled it out of his bag, and read:

_Sunday, December 25, 1379 _

_Merry Christmas! _

_It's a pity this is so one-way, I'd love to know how things are going there. I hope everyone got their presents. I'm sorry I missed Father Tim's Christmas service and dinner. You'll have to tell me all about it! _

_As an early Christmas present, we got the Coopers safely packed up from their home and moved into Hogsmeade. I've contracted with Mr. Cooper to build wooden stairs and a platform for Cassidy and I, we can't make it from metal, as it will interfere with the temporal field. At least that's what we're telling the Coopers, they seemed somewhat downcast, a job will help to boost their spirits. Expanding their small house into a proper shop will have to wait until the spring thaw for foundations and walls, though._

_Cassidy and I are obviously spending the holidays here at school. Without all the people running about, it's quiet. I've been helping Cassidy assemble things, as well as helping Professor Barnhart plumb in a hydroponics bed in Greenhouse Five. There's a variant of rice there; Cassidy picked it up god-knows-where, gets its nutrients from filtering the water, which is then recirculated. I've also gotten some tutoring in spellwork from Headmistress Oldridge, who has managed to clarify certain things for me, and I love the Alchemy tutoring with Professor Flamel. It's nice to learn things from a master; I'm looking forward to discussing things with Professor Snape._

_Because our lives depend on the gizmo we're building, and that it's not as tight a schedule on our side, we're cross-checking our builds with each other and with Alfred, the ship's (manumitted) AI. Tomorrow (Boxing Day), we're going to do a preliminary power-on test for the rig. Considering we're using matter-to-energy conversion (WAY beyond fusion or antimatter!) to power this gizmo, I hope there won't be an earth-shattering KABOOM! _

_However, you guys are still there, so I guess we did it right!  
__Mattie_

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 4, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 08:53  
_**------------------------

With a howl of tortured energy, a golden ball of light appeared, bringing staff and students running. Humming, it shrank to about five meters, turning transparent, letting people see ghostly figures, Mattie crouching next to a squat black device with heavy cables running from it, Cassidy next to a control panel. Mattie stood and waved, then scribbled on a pad, 'WHAT DATE AND TIME?'

Professor Harry used his wand to write in the air, '4Jan 2001, 5 till 9 am'. He added, 'Can U see clock?'

Mattie turned and scribbled, 'ONLY OURS. HERE BOX-DAY, 13:37. WHAT LIKE?'

Harry replied, 'LOUD howl, now hum. Why?'

After a short conference, she wrote, 'NO RECEIVING STATION – GET BUSY!' The last comment got a chuckle. Turning the page, she added, 'APPEAR AS GHOSTS? KEEP REAL GHOSTS AWAY! ASK BARON!'

Another bit of wand-waving, 'You do. Will ask. Next test?'

After another brief conference, 'TENATIVE 1FEB 12 NOON. TRY TO SYNC TIME.' A few other figures had wandered in, Headmistress Oldridge waved at the 'upstream' throng. She borrowed Mattie's pad, writing, 'Minerva, I shall send you a letter!' She added, 'Professors Binns and Flamel say 'Hello!' to you!' Mattie reclaimed her pad, writing, 'GOT TO GO – GENERATOR LOW ON FUEL. SEE YOU 1 FEB! LOVE TO ALL!' She shooed the others out, waved along with Cassidy, and the field vanished with a 'pop'.

------------------------

Minerva settled down, opening the 1379 volume to December 26.

_Monday, 26 December, 1379 _

_Dearest Minerva,_

_It was very pleasant to see you again, not to mention the rest of the school. Could you see colour? We could, although no sound – just a low humming from Miss Wayne's 'gizmo'. Miss Yates assures me that once you have your end constructed, even that should disappear, as will the enormous power drain. It apparently took as much 'juice' to hold the 'field' open for those short minutes as it did to fly amongst the stars – I cannot conceive of it! _

_Miss Wayne asks me to ensure that the ghosts are kept far from the field – one of ours inadvertently sailed into the edge of the field and disappeared! Her fellow ghosts are unable to find her, and the Baron has been suitably forewarned. _

_Miss Yates estimates the transfer area itself will only occupy about a ten foot diameter, however, 'spillover' from that might extend to a radius of 150 to 200 feet; which is well into the Slytherin and Hufflepuff dormitories. Please forewarn students and faculty that we might share as ghosts' quarters, meals and classrooms with our counterparts. Miss Wayne has designated classrooms in use in her time. Remind your students and staff they are not to inform us as to future events! _

_Alberta_

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 4, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 12:13  
_**------------------------

Minerva stood, rapping on her goblet with a knife, as noise slowly died down. She called, "Baron? Are you there?"

The ghost appeared, along with about a dozen others. "We are here, Minerva. You may proceed."

She nodded, "Thank you," and addressed the students. "We all saw the rather dramatic appearance this morning by Miss Wayne and Miss Yates. I have received a letter from Headmistress Oldridge, my counterpart. She wishes me to forewarn both the ghosts and the Hogwarts population about certain things." Looking up at the ghosts, she said, "They have lost one ghost who inadvertently touched the field. They expect it to have a diameter of up to two hundred feet; however, I think it best if you were to be as far away as possible. They next expect a test on the first of February, about noon."

The Baron bowed, "Well I remember that. All of us shall visit the Hogsmeade churchyard ghosts, and we shall take care of Peeves for you." He looked over at Myrtle, "You shall need to go through the lake, unless you will give your word about Olive Hornsby." The spectacled ghost shook her head stubbornly, and the Baron sighed and nodded.

"Secondly," Minerva told the school, "As you saw, they appear as coloured ghosts to us, and we to them. Neither can hear the other, but we can communicate by writing. You must not communicate their future to them," she intoned, "Including persons' names. They will be writing letters, which will be delivered in April. I mention this because the two hundred foot range means they may very well appear in classrooms, the Hufflepuff and Slytherin dormitories, and here in the Great Hall. Therefore, when you ask someone to 'Pass the salt, please,' it may be your ancestor doing so."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 4, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Gotham City, Wayne Tower, Executive suites: 14:20  
_**------------------------

"One moment, please," Mira told the caller, then touched her intercom, "Mrs. Wayne, I have an international call for you, personal, a Miss McGonagall. Will you take it?"

"Of course, Mira, she's the Headmistress of Mattie's school." A light flashed on her phone, she picked it up, "Selina Wayne."

"Good morning, Mrs. Wayne," Minerva said, "I just thought you'd like to know that Mattie called in a few minutes ago. It was... impressively loud."

Selina chuckled, "She does like to make an entrance. Was there much of a discrepancy?"

"She called on Boxing Day, at about twenty till two in the afternoon; we received it about five till nine this morning. She wishes to schedule another test, to synchronize things, at noon on the first of February. Might you have your equipment ready?"

"There are some... logistical problems," Selina admitted with a sigh. "In particular, one person does not want to allow access for 'personal reasons'. I don't know if we can build that part in time; I may have to steal it, and return it later."

"I see," Minerva replied. "Another problem occurs to me, that of unauthorized access to either end. Might you have a suggestion?"

"Hmm," Selina said as she walked over to look out the floor to ceiling windows in her office. "Very possible," she mused, looking at the winter skyline, roofs covered with snow. "I'll have to make a few calls. I'm also concerned about asset recovery; I assume you don't want the equipment cluttering up your Entrance Hall for too long."

"Very true," Minerva chuckled, "A knut saved, and all that, I can well appreciate the need. By the by, another student, a Mr. Spencer, introduced his Aunt Sarah to me, apparently you have met her?"

"I have indeed; I've had a long discussion with her and Mr. Spencer's grandmother. Just after I last saw you, as a matter of fact. While she's not fully conversant with everything you're aware of, we did discuss matters relating to a certain ship, and the associated benefits."

"I should hope that Scotland will come out well in those discussions," Minerva said, and Selina chuckled, "Rest assured, Scotland, the UK, and a nice chunk of Europe will come out very well. We do remember our friends, Minerva."

"As well as enemies, I presume," Minerva said. "I was most distressed to hear of the results of your general election."

"As was I," Selina said. "However, we haven't forgotten our Canadian or Mexican neighbors. One mustn't single-source such things. Pemex as well as BP was most interested in studying certain things."

"I am certain they were," Minerva agreed. "If there is nothing else, I presume I shall see you the first of February?"

"You can count on it, Minerva."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, January 5, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Luna, JLA Tower: 11:38  
_**------------------------

Batgirl crept silently along the hallways leading to the equipment lockers. She crouched next to the first door, and signaled the security implant. When the door failed to open, she opened an equipment pouch.

"You won't be able to get in, Selina," a husky voice said.

"What makes you think so, Diana?" she asked, still working at the lock. "Bruce designed these locks."

"After his death, I removed his access, and placed you on probationary status," she replied.

"You're forgetting a few things," Selina replied, as the first door hissed open to a "Great Hera!" from Wonder Woman. She stood, facing the Amazon. "Firstly, I am still a rather accomplished burglar. Secondly, I have access to all of Bruce's files. Third..."

"Third, _never_ get between a mother and her cub," Clark said. He looked over at Selina, "Promise to return it?"

"Of course," she replied. "Did you really need to ask?"

"Pro-forma," he replied. "When would you like me to drop off the power unit at Hogwarts?"

"As soon as possible before February first," she replied, turning. "Kyle, I'd like to meet with you and your fellow Lanterns fairly soon regarding security."

"Tomorrow afternoon's good for me. I'll check with Jenny and John and let you know. Want us to meet you at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, please," Selina said, turning back to the Amazon. "Diana, you seem to be assuming I'm taking this to turn a profit. I'm taking this to retrieve my child, and you're not standing in my way. Now, you seem to be outvoted, will you step aside?"

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 6, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 16:58  
_**------------------------

As Minerva descended the stairs, she heard, "Jenny will be a few minutes late. Clark, want some help with that?"

"No, thank you, Kyle, I'm just looking to place it on bedrock." There was a 'thoom' as the building shook, Clark adding, "Hello, Minerva. Did you know there's a sealed chamber under the floor?"

"No, I did not, Mr. Kent," the Headmistress replied as the bell rang for end of class.

"Too late for the poor folks in there," he said. "It looks like they've been dead for centuries. I'll show you where it is later," he added, as the thunder of feet echoed. The oak front doors opened, admitting Jenny, who asked "Did I miss anything?"

"Not really," Selina said, dressed in an impeccable business suit, as was Clark. The three Lanterns, on the other hand, wore their uniforms as students gawked from the balconies. "I'm concerned with security of the components, and since the Corps has been around for quite a while..."

"You're wondering if there's some way to communicate this to Mattie?" John Stewart asked. "I'll check the archives on Oa and see what can be done."

"I thought you might be," Clark said. "The generator has its own security field, but I've got some other devices that would help. I can drop them off tomorrow."

"Could you stop to see Barbara tomorrow?" Selina said. "She's got some computer equipment for both rigs; the one to the fourteenth century, and the one to the twenty-fourth. Dick and his partner Amy have volunteered; they'll be by this weekend to help."

"I'm free this weekend," Jenny said, and Kyle nodded.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 7, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Seventh floor: 07:28  
_**------------------------

Harry Spencer waited outside the seventh floor, leaning on the railing and watching the activity below. He turned when he heard a 'Fwoup' sound behind the door, and smiled, "Hello, Mr. Grayson, good to see you again."

"Mr. Spencer, how are you?" Dick smiled. "I'd like you to meet my partner on the Bludhaven PD, Sgt. Amy Rohrback."

Amy shook her head, holding out her hand. "Sorry, that's a hell of a ride," she admitted. "Please, call me Amy."

"And as we've two 'Harry's' here, the other goes by 'Professor Harry', whilst I am simply Harry Spencer," he said, "At your service. Welcome to Hogwarts, I am your guide to the trick staircases and such. I do like the casual nature of you Yanks. Have you eaten?"

"No, it was a little after two a.m. when we left," Dick said. "Time zones, you know."

"Then let me invite you to a hearty breakfast before we begin work," Harry said, rubbing his hands. "I do say, this is a bit like H.G. Wells, don't you know, time machines and whatnot?"

------------------------

"Who is _that_?" Amy whispered to Dick.

He turned, "That's Hagrid, one of the professors here," he told her, referring to the tall fellow that was covered with hair, casually carrying a steel beam on his shoulder.

"Great bloke, but a bit clumsy," Professor Harry said, welding a conduit to the beam with his wand. "Half giant, but the most peaceful soul you would ever want to meet." He looked up, "Remus, can you get the end of this, so we can get it in place?"

"Certainly, Harry," the thin fellow said, picking up the end of the beam as a grey wolf wandered over, sniffing at Amy. Remus barked something, the wolf replying before sitting next to Amy, wagging her tail.

"Amy, meet Sprink, she's Mattie's roommate," Dick said, and Sprink woofed softly.

"Roommate?" Amy asked, holding out her hand for Sprink to sniff.

"Roommate," Remus confirmed, "Even if she is being a lazy git at the moment. Either pick up a wrench or help me hold this, girl."

"Right-o," Sprink said, transforming. She smiled at Amy, "Never seen a werewolf before?"

"I brought a softball," Dick said. "I'll throw it for you later if we get this done."

"Cool!" and you could almost see her tail wag.

------------------------


	12. Interlude Two, Third Year

------------------------

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
12 – Interlude Two, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Thursday, February 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Triton, Neptune Orbit, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 06:00  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Miss Bundy," Alfred said as the stasis field collapsed. "Welcome to the twenty-first century."

"I'm... I'm alive? It worked?"

A soft chuckle, "It certainly did. Careful, now," he warned, as he moved the remote to assist, "The gravity is weak, step carefully."

"Gravity?" she asked.

"The force you feel pulling you 'down'," he replied as she sat. "Push up very gently against the chair arms; you should feel some straps you're sitting on. Buckle them about your waist to stay in one place." She played with the catch on the seat belt; then he asked, "Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"Water, please. I'm dry as a bone." She watched, fascinated, as the remote floated over to her, carrying a bottle of water. She puzzled out opening the bottle, asking, "What's next?" as she rubbed the goose bumps on her arms.

"Are you cold?" Anne nodded, he replied, "My apologies. I do not require an atmosphere or more than minimal heat. When I pressurized the ship, I set what I thought was an adequate temperature." She heard a door hiss open, "I have replicated a ship's suit for you. Please hold on to the remote until you become accustomed to low gravity."

She released her seat belt, asking, "Can you not increase the... gravity, was it? Yes, can you produce your own gravity?"

"_Very_ good, Miss Bundy! Indeed, I can produce a range of gravities. However, there are several reasons I have not. Gravity above the moon's ambient will be detectible, and we are hiding. The power expenditure for greater levels of heating would also be noticeable, and you need to learn how to maneuver in low and null gravity. You do not require underclothing, is that what you are searching for?"

"Yes, how do I put this on?"

"Meaning no insult, but do you wish to bathe first? Some people find it more comfortable to do so first."

"Yes, thank you. I remember something about a 'sonic' shower?"

"Ah, yes. There are three 'seashells', smallest to largest, which correspond to increasing strength. I would suggest the lowest level; also look about in there for a silver tube labeled 'suit lubricant'. Some find it easier to don their suit when the interfaces are coated. I shall not monitor you while you are bathing, unless you call me."

------------------------

"Do you feel better, Miss Bundy?"

"I do, thank you, Alfred," Anne smiled. "How do I put this on and what about when I need to..." she motioned to the small head.

"Your natural processes? The suit will handle biological waste, including the female menstrual cycle. All you will need to do is to take a hydro shower at least once a month while wearing it, which will flush the holding tanks and regenerate the oxygen cells. If you wish to wash your hair before then, a sonic will handle that task." He cleared his throat, "Some persons prefer to cut their hair short, or shave it off altogether, as long hair interferes with the helmet seal."

"Where are these 'tanks' you mention?" Anne asked, holding up the black garment. "Is the helmet the glass bowl?"

"It is. To don the suit, you enter it from the back. Do you see paired bumps on either side of the opening slit, at the bottom, middle, and top?" Anne nodded, "Pinch them together, one hand on one pair, the other on the next one, and they will seal."

"It vanished! All I see are the bumps!"

"When the helmet is on, you cannot open the suit, a safety measure. Pinch the bumps again, the suit will open." Anne did so, with a soft cry of amazement as she sat on her bunk. Alfred chuckled, "Given your background, Miss Bundy, you are handling this very well. To continue, pull the legs up, making sure the toes are properly seated. It will stretch a bit, did you bring the lubricant?" She nodded, "Inside, there are three connectors, take a bit of lubricant on your fingers, not too much, and coat it over them. The thin tube is for urination, the second is for..."

"Thank you, Alfred, I can guess. Might you... turn away for a moment?"

"Certainly, please ensure they are well seated. Call me when you are ready."

------------------------

"Alfred? I believe this is correct, and thank you for your discretion."

He re-enabled his camera, and saw that she had done up the back of the suit, wearing what appeared to be a high, tight black turtleneck leotard over white tights. "It appears so. I have taken the default settings for Miss Yates and Miss Wayne regarding the support of your mammary glands, I do hope it is comfortable."

"'Tis so, much better than the 'bra' I wore before. It does not pinch. Even the connectors are not uncomfortable, just... unusual. I am not accustomed to feeling them there, or sitting on them." She moved her arms about, fluffing her hair. "I shall become adjusted to them."

"Excellent. You should find a pair of black boots in one of the drawers under the bunk. They should cover your lower leg, and close in the same way." He watched her hunt, finding them and sliding them on. "Miss Yates prefers a higher heel on hers, some ten centimeters, while Miss Wayne prefers none. I have averaged them; please inform me of your preferences." She nodded, "On the inside of each wrist, there are medications panels, on the outside are control panels. Pinch the wrist to show and hide them." She did so, "Do you see a black circular button to the upper right of the panel? Touch it; an emergency field will protect your head. You will then have three minutes to don your helmet." She nodded, "To don your helmet normally, make certain all your hair is inside the helmet, pull it on and rotate it a half turn to the right, then press the black button." The helmet sealed shut, and she experimented with it. "This is most interesting, Alfred."

"Indeed. If you use the helmet for several hours, the suit must be recharged. In the same drawer as the boots, did you see a metal collar, about three centimeters wide?"

She slid the drawer open, "About an inch wide? Aye, I do. I presume I remove the helmet, and place it on my suit?"

"Correct. It latches and releases with the two bumps. Put it on before you sleep, remove it when you awaken. Finally, the current settings for the suit are the standard. On the control panel, press the yellow button twice, then 68, and the green button, you will have a school uniform identical to Miss Wayne's."

"Oh, my!" she looked about, "I did fancy the standard, though."

"Yellow twice, then 00, and green," The suit shimmered back, and she closed the control panel, asking, "What next?"

"Communication, after you had entered stasis, Headmistress Oldridge visited. Miss Yates asked that you send Headmistress McGonagall a message. They will see each other across the temporal field, and she can reassure them of your safe arrival."

"And my family," she said sadly. "I wonder if this has been a mistake, despite all the wondrous things I have experienced."

"Miss Wayne and Miss Yates anticipated your asking that question. In the drawer above the one you store your boots; they have some personal correspondence for you."

"Oh, thank you, Alfred!" Anne said, dropping to her knees and twisting the handle to unlatch the drawer. A bundle of letters rested there, along with one on top:

_December 26, 1379 _

_Anne:  
If you're reading this, then you've decided to go ahead and make the big leap ahead. You're also probably feeling sad, you miss your family, and you're wondering if you've made the right decision.  
_

_For what it's worth, I lost my father just before I came to visit you. I know what you're feeling; you're thinking, 'My family will know!' and then realizing that you can't ask them anymore.  
_

_That's true, but don't forget, you have a much larger, extended family now, not only Cassidy and myself, but also Karen and Kelly, your blood relatives here in this century. You also have the support of Slytherin, Professor Snape and the rest of the faculty, and whatever else you might need. I've also taken the liberty of copying your letters from home, the originals, along with your trunk, went back to your home. Your wand is bundled with the letters; Professor Oldridge created a false one to send home.  
_

_Cassidy and I will see you April first!  
Mattie _

Anne sniffled, the replicator hummed, and Alfred's remote handed her a handkerchief. "Thank you, Alfred," she said, looking at the stack of letters. A note floated loose, she picked it up and read:

_26-12-1379 _

_Anne:  
I've left a recording for you that Mattie doesn't know about – it concerns her future. Ask Alfred to play it, with 'code 255'. Even if Mattie sees this note (she shouldn't), the recording is keyed to you.  
_

_As far as you're feeling lonely, while Alfred isn't the best conversationalist, he does have a detachment we need sometimes. I've spend quite a few hours talking to him myself – you're not the only one far away from family.  
_

_As the saying goes, 'Hang tight' for a couple months (assuming you're reading this on first Feb), and study with Alfred. Mattie and I have revised his syllabus to help you fit in as best you can; you do have blood relatives here.  
Cassidy _

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, February 15, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 19:09  
_**------------------------

"I'm sorry, Anne, but you can't come with us, and that's final!" Mattie shouted, Anne bursting into tears and storming out the doors. Mattie stood, clearly frustrated; then stormed out after her.

Once she passed through the main doors, she gave Cassidy the 'go' signal; the _Yates'_ running lights flashing in reply. Picking up the pig, she flew up toward the top, reflecting on the scene in the Headmistress' office where with a borrowed wand, she had cast '_Avada Kedavra_' on the unfortunate pig.

'_Give her a few minutes to get to the top, there's a lot of stairs to climb_,' she thought. '_She won't see me, but she'll see the green light I flash_,' she mused, as Anne made a noisy entrance to the parapets, screaming about something. She paused, looked down and saw Mattie's green flash of light. Brushing her hair back in acknowledgement, she 'slipped', and fell with a piercing scream.

"Oof!" Mattie told her as she was caught, the transformed pig plummeting downward to hit with a 'crack' on the rocks below.

"Can we be seen?" Anne whispered, and Mattie backed off to watch, as Cassidy rushed out to 'help'.

"No, we can be heard, though," Mattie whispered in reply. "Have you ever thought about a diet?"

------------------------

"Why are you changing your shoes?" Anne asked as she stripped down for the stasis chamber.

"I was out running about the lake, thinking," Mattie replied with a grin. "See, I've got mud on them."

"And on my clean deck," Alfred complained.

"Why must I be naked?" Anne asked, Alfred replying, "It is necessary for the stasis field, Miss Bundy. I would need to cut your clothes off, this way, you shall retain them whole. They will be available when you awaken on February first."

"I thought she was going to be woken on April first," Mattie said.

Cassidy waved her hand, "My fault, Cap. I thought a bit of acclimatization would be best. Two months sound all right?"

"Two months that I might adjust myself to the twenty-first century? Will it be enough, I wonder," Anne said.

"I shall consider an instructional plan from my mountain cave," Alfred said.

Mattie asked, "I thought you were going to dig one on the Moon."

"Luna's too noticeable, it's too close," Cassidy said. "I suggested Triton, way out orbiting Neptune. There's nothing there but methane lakes and hydrogen sulfide. It's boring, boring, boring."

"As long as I can find you," Mattie said.

Alfred replied, "I shall relocate to Luna on March first, I surveyed a suitable cave overlooking Tranquility Mare, whereupon I shall release a probe. Is there anything else we need to discuss with Miss Bundy?"

------------------------

"Has Miss Bundy gone to sleep yet?" Headmistress Oldridge asked Cassidy soon after greetings were exchanged. She wanted to know that the plan had worked, that her student was safe. She wanted to see with her own eyes, not a bit of mysterious equipage.

"She climbed in a couple hours ago and 'blip'. Instant popsicle," Cassidy replied, stifling a yawn. "Sorry, it's been a long day. She's asleep, and Alfred's watching over her, she should stay that way until it's time to wake her up."

"Might I see her?" the Headmistress inquired.

"Certainly, this way, please." Cassidy replied, leading the way.

To her eyes, the stasis chamber resembled nothing less than a large coffin. She had to remind herself that it was an advanced medical device. Cassidy touched controls on a gleaming black glass panel, the lid turned transparent.

Surprised, the Headmistress exclaimed, "She's naked!"

"Well, of course. It works best that way," Cassidy explained, adding, "We've got her clothes set aside for her. We duplicated her letters from home, so she'll have them to remember her family.

"The poor dear looks positively mortified," Alberta said, and Cassidy grinned. Whispering, she continued, "Oh what glorious things you shall see when you awaken, little one. I but wish that I could see them too. May Our Lord watch over you always, child."

------------------------  
**_Monday, February 27, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:22  
_**------------------------

The Korugarian Lantern gestured, the doors flying open with a crash. Her quarry was within, the false Lantern! One who dared to falsify the sacred Ring!

Mattie stood, holding up a hand to the High Table. "I think this gentlebeing wants to speak to me," she said.

------------------------

(Your Ring and Lantern are clearly of Guardian craft,) she admitted. (They are also clearly more advanced than mine. If you were taken unawares, sent back in time, it would also explain why you are not listed in my databases, why my ring is unfamiliar with your ring-code. Your pardon for the intrusion,) she started to rise.

"One moment," Mattie said, raising her hand. "By entering the way you did, you yourself may have endangered my timeline. These people are uninformed; I have been trying to keep knowledge of other life and star systems from contaminating their world-view." She smiled, "I will also need someone to operate my device, and ensure that the temporal parts are removed, to prevent temptation, you see. The other parts, the generator, beams, and so forth must be moved to my ship. Tungsten is tungsten, after all."

(That it is. Tell me of your ship.)

"We have installed and manumitted an AI aboard it," she ignored her shock, "At the time of transfer; it will be parked in a cave on a moon of the eighth planet. If you can operate the device, and then move the parts onto my ship, I would be appreciative."

(This I can do. Let me see your device.)

Privacy shield banished, they walked over to the control panel, their rings allowing them through the security screen. The Lantern examined the controls. "The device is synchronizing with the up-time device now," she told her. "You would need to monitor the power supply, and then create the transfer field at the correct time."

(When will you be transferring?)

"Thirty-four days."

(I shall arrive the day before, then.)

------------------------  
**_Thursday, March 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:11  
_**------------------------

Headmistress Oldridge stood, tapping her goblet with a knife. "May I have your attention, please? While I know that we're all upset with Miss Bundy's death, Miss Wayne has asked to say a few words."

Mattie stood, clearing her throat. "Thank you. You may have noticed my time-travel device in the Entrance Hall. The reason it's been humming is for a final alignment with the 21st century."

A loud buzz of conversation erupted, Mattie tapped her goblet again. "Thank you. This is your final notice, if you're going to write letters to your kin, you must give them to me by Friday the thirtieth. Please seal them and write your clan name on the outside, so I'll know who to give them to."

She took a sip from the goblet; continuing, "You may have noticed some vague shapes moving about. Those are your descendants, attending Hogwarts some six hundred years from now. The reason they're indistinct, as opposed to the ghostlike shape you saw on the first is to protect you from finding out the future, no matter how much we all would like it. It removes temptation." She raised her hand at the resultant buzz, "There will be about ninety minutes to an hour before and after the actual twelve o'clock transfer process, you'll be able to see them once again as fairly solid, colorful ghosts. You still won't be able to hear them, though, but they'll be eating lunch with us. For the Slytherin and Hufflepuff people, I'd like to mention that the dorms in the year 2001 are mixed, so don't be surprised to see girls in there. To simplify things, if you want to put a bit of paper with your name on your clothes with a sticking charm, we don't think it will do much harm."

Once again, Mattie had to tap her goblet. "Thank you. Just to give a word of advice, if you see your counterparts holding a small box that flashes a bright light, don't be concerned. It's a device called a 'camera', which is a way to take a quick portrait. It won't harm you."

She cleared her throat, "I've compiled a list of the people I know are at Hogwarts. If I don't call your clan's name, don't assume the worst, it may simply be that there's nobody school-age. I've jotted down every one I remember, so I apologize for anybody missing." Clearing her throat again, she began to read, "Abercrombie, Ackerly, Baddock, Belby, Bell, Binns, Black, Bundy..."

"What if she doesn't read your clan's name?" Melanie asked.

"You may not have any descendants at Hogwarts," Augustus shrugged.

"... Fawcett, Figg, Flitwick..."

"Or your clan's dead," Melanie replied.

"I think she's trying to avoid saying something like that," Augustus mentioned.

"... Hagrid, Higgs..."

Augustus poured another cup of tea, and listened with half an ear.

"... Malfoy," Mattie cleared her throat, and Augustus sat up, "... MacDonald, McGonagall, Potter, Pritchard, Quirk, Sinistra, Snape, Tonks, Trelawney, Vector and Weasley." She cleared her throat again, "You may have noticed a guest of mine. She's from a ... place called Korugar; she will be dismantling and removing the machine."

"Her skin was red," someone observed.

"So?" Mattie asked. "She's dismantling it so nobody, including myself, gets ideas about time travel. Once Cassidy and I have passed through, she'll dismantle it and dispose of the time-travel bits; I won't know where."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, March 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Triton, Neptune Orbit, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 05:00  
_**------------------------

"Miss Bundy? Please awaken, it is oh five hundred. Miss Bundy?"

Anne groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes, and said, "Thank you, Alfred. Please move the lights to half." The cabin lights rose from their normal ten percent night-time setting (Anne had panicked at the pitch-blackness of her cabin the first night.), as she reached behind her to disconnect the cable from her suit's charging collar. "'Tis the first of March, is it not?" she asked, sitting up and twisting about from the waist to stretch.

"Yes, it is. Today we move from our icy cave to a rocky cave. You will have a much greater view of Earth from Luna." He added, "You do not need to remove my shielding generator from the mouth of the cave, my remote is perfectly capable."

She pulled her dark grey blanket aside, swinging her legs over the side. She wiggled her toes, reaching down to twist open a drawer, she pulled out her own creation, her black felt 'house slippers' (which had a mild magnetic charge on the soles); turning to make her bunk, fluffing the pillow. As she pulled the restraining net over the bunk, she told Alfred, "As it is the first of the month, a water shower for this morning, then breakfast, and I shall assist you in your preparations." She turned to regard her desk and his camera, "Yes, I am aware you do not need me, however, I wish to do _something_; I wish to be _useful_ in some way. Do you not understand?"

"I believe so, Miss Bundy. Please remove your suit's charging collar; it is not designed for submersion, or use with the vacuum helmet." He chuckled softly, "Will you tell me why you insist on connecting it every night? It is not necessary."

"Thank you for reminding me," she said, reaching behind her neck to remove the updated charging collar and ignoring his question. While Alfred had done the actual construction, she had made several suggestions regarding it and her suit, and regarded it as 'hers'. Squeezing both upper and lower pairs of bumps, the gleaming silver collar was placed in the open drawer, which slid shut. "Cannot I simply say that it is pretty?" she asked.

"There is no one to see it," Alfred said, but Anne tisked, "There are you and I, Alfred, and as you have learned, as a woman I have a 'right' to confound you." She giggled, "The shower, please? I am so looking forward to going 'outside'!"

------------------------

The white cargo hatch lowered silently in the vacuum as Anne kicked off from the personnel lock, her practiced hands catching a grab rail at the edge. Uncoiling a short white ten meter tether from the belt around her slim waist, she moved to the outside of the ship, where she clipped a 250 meter blue tether line. Moving back, she released the white tether, coiling and securing it to her belt, then kicking off to move forward, the line playing out behind her. "I am reconsidering my hair, Alfred," she commented. "It does obscure my peripheral vision. Still, I wish to have the long, silky hair as we saw in the adverts." She whistled a jingle's tune.

"Those adverts are made on earth, not in space," he said. "It will depend on how much zero-gravity work you will do. The current fashion is for longer hair, and you will not be living aboard me when we return, much to my regret."

"Mine also," she said, pulling on the tether to come to a halt twenty meters ahead of him, at the edge of the cave's overhang. A golden shimmer hung before her, leading from a small shoebox sized device, tracing around the lip of the cave. Anne paid out another twenty meters for working room; then she secured the tether. "Please turn off the generator, Alfred." The gold field died, and Anne crouched in the microgravity as she started to unscrew a line that led along the floor, up and around the perimeter of the cave.

------------------------

Anne floated in the zero-gee of the cargo bay, past the beams and other equipment she remembered seeing in the Entrance Hall in the fourteenth century, which she had carefully secured with nets and lines. They had been carelessly dumped by someone, she smiled, her first lesson for working in space – secure everything! She had also learned the hard way about mass and momentum, a practical demonstration of Newton's first law when she broke several fingers moving the generator, crunching her hand against the bulkhead. The auto-doc quickly repaired her hand, and as she serviced the generator, it had been the first time she had worked in detail in vacuum. She smiled again as she recalled asking for the most difficult way to do the task, reasoning it the best way to learn. She had become so involved that she was amazed when she had finally looked up to find some twelve hours had passed, and she was not particularly fatigued!

Moving to the upper level, where there was a workshop and small equipment storage, she unclipped the short tether from the shield generator. "Alfred, where should I connect this?"

"There are diagnostic ports to either side of the workbench; they have blue and yellow stripes around them. Plug the cable into any of the larger ones."

"I see them. I'll use the lower left." She clipped the generator into a frame, uncoiling a length of the cable from the generator, resecuring the rest of the thirty meter length. Tightening it down, she asked, "What about the line that went about the perimeter of the cave, and the clips that held it?"

"There should be some smaller diagnostic ports, plug both ends of the cable in there. I installed five bolts; they should go in a drawer to the left. Don't forget your tethers."

"Good, I thought I had miscounted, I have all five, then." She worked for a few moments; kicking off toward the main cargo hatch. She secured the short white line, floating outside to disconnect her longer blue tether and coiling it. "Oh, my, this is _fun_!" she exclaimed. "What else might I do?"

"You are a natural spacer," Alfred said with a chuckle. "I propose a surprise for the Captain. If you continue to apply yourself, I have received updated materials for Guild certification. Would you like to sit the examinations along with Officer Yates?" She squealed in delight, he added, "Now, you have completed EVA work, what remains?"

"Equipment is secure," she mused, "You close the cargo hatch, and I return my personal equipment to storage."

"Correct, Miss, or should I say, crewman Bundy." She grinned happily as she floated toward the personnel hatch, the cargo hatch closing silently behind her.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, March 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:45  
_**------------------------

"Finally, for the Hufflepuff and Slytherin ladies, be aware that the dorms were not co-ed in the fourteenth century, so it is possible that you will see gentlemen from that time," Minerva said. "Your heads of house will be passing out copies of the school list from that year, if you have a kinsman on that list; it is very possible they will be sending you a letter for Miss Wayne to deliver." She glanced at the clock, "Off to class with you!"

The bell rang, the third-years instantly falling silent as Professor Snape appeared. He pursed his lips as he surveyed the class, finally saying, "This is one of the classrooms that we share temporally. For both of us, April first is a Sunday; unless you have a burning need to work on a potion, you should not be here."

He stalked about, "There are a total of one hundred fourteen persons at Hogwarts, faculty and student." His eyes glittered, "Yes, even I have relatives, a Miss Melanie Snape, who is fortunately a Slytherin."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, March 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Luna, Tranquility Mountains, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 15:28  
_**------------------------

"Here we are," Alfred said. "For your first attempt, you did very well in plotting a course and at the helm," he added. "Much better than Miss Wayne's, but don't tell her I said so."

"Of course," Anne said. "My lips are sealed," and moved her hand across, then over her shoulder.

"What was that gesture?"

"'Tis something Cassidy taught me, one seals the lips, then throws away the key," she giggled. She sat up in the command chair, asking, "What is next?"

"Are you certain you do not wish to try a nap?" Anne shook her head, ponytail bouncing across the back of the chair, and he sighed, "As you wish. There is quite a bit of work ahead, and you do not need to perform all of it." She nodded reluctantly. "Very well, in the cargo hold we have some light mining equipment. I will use my armament to bore a hole, enlarging the cave ahead. This rough bore then needs to be enlarged to a thirty by thirty meter square, carried back inside the mountain to a minimum distance of three hundred meters. The rough cavern walls are then fused and pressure sealed. I know you enjoy working outside; however, cracks in the surrounding rock might cause cave-ins. Will you _please_ let me perform the dangerous work? We do not have a miner's hard suit, a gross oversight, and I would much rather lose a remote than you."

Anne bit her lip, "I will still be able to help?"

"Yes, I would prefer that you practice with the maneuvering unit while I dig the holes. If you need assistance, I can override you remotely. Scanners and communication equipment needs to be installed on top of the mountain, holes bored for cable runs to an equipment room, the radiation shield reinstalled and an entrance ramp created. Officer Yates informs me that this will become a fairly substantial mining operation within a few years; we can give them an advantage. However, this also means you keep your studies up, _they_ are your primary task." Anne reluctantly nodded, and there was a whine and 'thunk' as Alfred locked his main guns in position. "We shall review two dimensional trigonometry before moving on to three and four dimensional mathematics."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, March 10, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Luna, Tranquility Mountain Base: 19:04  
_**------------------------

Anne attached her second one-meter tether to the quick-bolt in the rock, bracing her feet on either side of the ridge. Checking the co-ordinates again, she held on to the excavator in front of her, mounted to its series of quick-bolts. Pressing her helmet to the sights, she started to level off the small plateau on the mountain, hundreds of meters above the plain. As the controlled lightning blasted the rock, she thought of her former schoolmates, '_Augustus would never have dirtied his hands, and Melanie would have been too frightened to do this._' she mused. Releasing the trigger, she waited for the fine dust to settle in the one-sixth gravity. "I need a broom," she said.

"You need what?" Alfred asked.

"A broom, this little plateau is simply _covered_ in dust!" she said as she pulled the yellow safety interlock out of the excavator, letting it dangle on its own tether. Coiling one of her tethers, she replaced it with a blue 250 meter one; then removing the other red one-meter tether. "Can I name this little plateau?" she asked.

"I do not see any difficulty with that," Alfred replied. "What would you like to call it, and why?"

"I should like to call it 'Oldridge Plateau', for the Headmistress, she would very much have enjoyed this." She sniffled a bit, "Pity she will not know."

"She can, Miss Bundy. Once we have this communication equipment installed, we can send email to Miss McGonagall. While Headmistress Oldridge will not have a physical copy, there is no reason Miss McGonagall cannot show her a photograph or a map."

"A photograph! I had forgotten about those! Oh, curse this medieval brain of mine!"

Alfred chuckled, "Do not concern yourself. My remote is on the way to you, it has the remote sensors, navigational beacons and other equipment."

"Other equipment? What else am I to install?"

"Not install, use. A camera, and a broom."

------------------------

Alfred detected an incoming signal on the new comm equipment:

_To: Alfred, c/o Cassidy Yates  
From: Batgirl, c/o JLA  
Date: 10 March, 2001  
Subject: Welcome _

_Alfred, if you're anything like your namesake, you're the soul of discretion. Our private sensor net detected your flight in from Neptune; the local Lantern has given us your registered engine signatures. From what Miss Yates has passed on through Hogwarts, you'll be there for a few weeks more, and she is how we got this comm frequency. _

_Minerva has already set up accounts for Anne, we've pre-authorized you to send and receive mail and Internet traffic through the JLA until you can get your own comm tied in. _

_Superman, our local Kryptonian, will be doing a high-altitude scan of you tomorrow to check and see if you need help. If you do, send an email to Help at this frequency, we're just a few hundred kilometers away. _

_To: Batgirl, c/o JLA  
From: Alfred, c/o Cassidy Yates  
Date: 10 March, 2001  
Subject: Re: Welcome _

_I am indeed the very heart and soul of discretion; it is one of the strongest subroutines in an AI's programming. I thank you for the welcome, I have my comm channels set up, but I do not have mail servers as yet. If I might relay through you temporarily it would be appreciated. _

_To: Alfred, c/o Cassidy Yates  
From: Oracle, c/o OracleSecure .net  
Date: 10 March, 2001  
Subject: FW: Re: Welcome_

_Attach: servers.encrypt _

_Please pardon the imposition, Batgirl forwarded to me your need for mail servers. I will have a server established for you within twelve hours; the details are in the attached file. Decrypt using your thruster engine signature. _

_As you may know, getting a new Top Level Domain is a very long, drawn out process. Your server is therefore registered under yates. wayneinterstellar .net (with Mrs. Wayne's permission). This will propagate out to the Internet within 72 hours.  
Oracle _

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, March 13, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 16:56  
_**------------------------

Minerva's computer 'pinged' with new mail, she sighed, just as she was about to go to dinner. Turning, she opened the new mail.

_To: Minerva McGonagall  
From: Anne Bundy  
Date: 13 March, 2001  
Subject: Hello from the moon!  
Attach: Pictures _

_Hello, Headmistress McGonagall! _

_This is my very first email thing I have written. It is strange indeed to use this 'keyboard' contraption, instead of quill and ink! Alfred has somehow linked in with the planet's communication network, he calls it the 'Internet'. A marvelous thing, indeed, we have both been studying it most assiduously, although neither one of us can deduce why there is such a great interest in naked ladies. Have the men none of their own? _

_Setting that aside, this is a privy letter to you. My understanding of upcoming events involves Miss Wayne, once she properly arrives in this time, finding us and returning all of us to Hogwarts. As such, we have tunneled deep into this mountain, that we might be safe from the radiation. (This is pictures one through five that I have included.) In order to find our little hole, we have installed a 'beacon' and other equipment atop the mountain, drilling down to connect it. (These are pictures six through twelve.)  
_

_I must beg a kindness from you. As I understand the process, you will be able to see and write, but not hear or touch my former schoolmates. In honor of the Headmistress' sacrifices on my behalf (Alfred has played the recording of her visit to me.), I have named the highest point on our mountain 'Oldridge Plateau', it has been duly marked on Alfred's maps. (I have attached a copy.) I have also so engraved the rock there, where it shall last for eternity. The last series of pictures are of that engraving, and photographs of Earth from that spot. Unfortunately, clouds covered most of Scotland and Ireland at the time, although southern England, France, the Iberian Peninsula and the Italian boot are clearly visible.  
_

_If you could show these to her, as well as the last photograph, which Alfred took of me in the Captain's Chair, I would appreciate it greatly.  
Miss Anne Bundy _

Sniffling, Minerva paged through the photographs, including the one that showed, harshly lit, a smooth grey slab of rock. Etched into it in black were the words:

**OLDRIDGE  
PLATEAU  
2001**

_To: Anne Bundy  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 13 March, 2001  
Subject: Re: Hello from the moon!  
_

_Miss Bundy:  
I shall be honored to do so.  
_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

_PS: I am looking forward to seeing you in the flesh in a mere 18 days! _

Still sniffling, she forwarded the photograph of Anne to Karen and Kelly's email accounts while a set of photos printed out for her to share.

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 30, 2001: (Gregorian)  
London, St. Mungo's locked psychiatric ward: 06:29  
_**------------------------

Healer Fairburn stopped outside the ward, turning to Roger Webster and saying, "For the record, I am against releasing her. She is still delusional, still suffering from gender confusion. She has been through a traumatic experience and needs continuing therapy." He snorted, "Half of the time, she refers to herself in the feminine, half in the masculine. In addition, she has finally started her menstrual cycle in addition to the development of her breasts. Her masculine self is rejecting this, but her feminine self is using it to manipulate the nurses and orderlies."

"Our psychologist disagrees with you, Healer. She believes that returning her to school will be the best therapy for her, and the order committing her was only valid through the end of March. Today being the last business day of March..."

"Your so-called healer visited her once. Once! She has been the subject of professional inquiries..."

"All of which she has answered to the satisfaction of the licensing board," Mr. Webster said. "Face it, Healer; you do not have legal grounds to hold my client. Once she is released, I will transport her to another place, where she will no longer be your concern. I have clothing for her, if you will be so kind as to unlock the ward?"

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 30, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 11:45  
_**------------------------

"Miss Wayne," Augustus Malfoy called. "A moment of your time?" She turned, and he asked, "The other day, you seemed to hesitate when you mentioned the Malfoy name. Might one of my descendants be involved in your visit?"

Mattie considered, "Yes, she's the cause of it. I don't know if the spell she used is illegal or not, but I'm worried about my friends and relatives."

"I thought that might be the case." He pulled a scroll from his robes. "Please give this to her, something from her ancestor. What is her name?"

"Lucille. Lucille Malfoy."

"Thank you," he said with a small bow. "Please accept the Malfoy family's best wishes." He gave her a small smile, "You mustn't be late."

------------------------


	13. April First, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
13 – April First, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 10:32  
_**------------------------

Arthur and Charlie joined a crowd gazing at the time-travel device. To their left, the heavy oak doors stood open, letting in the sun, to their right, Sprink came up from the dungeons. "Weird, seein' these ghostly guys in the dorms," she commented, waving hello at their counterparts.

'_Hello, yourself_,' one of the ghostly figures wrote on her parchment. '_Tis difficult to believe thou art 600 years distant, but I see the sun and grass through your doors, while we have a late snowfall._' Her little nametag read 'Melanie Snape, 5th year Slytherin'

'_I know_' wrote Sprink, Charlie lending his back for her legal pad, '_Pity we can't talk about more than the weather!_' She added. '_I'm Sprink, Charlie_' (she patted his head), '_and Arthur_' (she pointed).

Melanie carefully (and ostentatiously) looked around, the other three doing the same; she held her finger to her lips, '_The same Arthur Miss Wayne talks about in her sleep?_'

"Oy, mate!" Charlie said with a grin, slapping Arthur's back as his face flushed in embarrassment, while Sprink spun him around to scribble, '_She FORGOT her silencing spell one night? HA! Will we use this! Her birthday is May 31, I know just the prank to pull! Miss Perfect is human after all!_'

Arthur took his own pad to scribble, '_She could have set this up to prank you, Sprink_.'

Sprink snorted, '_Even you're not that paranoid_.'

Charlie turned, writing, '_Mattie is, she hung from a rafter last year so she could hex you_.'

"Your pad, Miss Tonks," Professor Snape intoned, as he read the entries. While he did so, Melanie's eyes grew wide, her hand covering her mouth. Severus nodded at her, plucking the pen from Sprink's hand, and writing, '_Greetings, Melanie, my ancestor._'

With a shaky hand, she wrote, '_You are my... descendant?_'

'_From one of your three brothers, I presume,_' he wrote. '_Being able to see you, young and alive instead of a dusty portrait reinforces this, does it not?_'

'_It does not seem quite real,_' she admitted. '_At first, it seemed a marvelous story, as we knew travel through time and space were not possible, but now..._' She gestured, '_Not ten feet through those doors, we are having a snowstorm, with two feet since nightfall. I can hear the wind, but I look through yours, I see sun on a grassy field. It is passing strange, and yet, I see folk coming and going to Slytherin and Hufflepuff, and behind you I see the Great Hall._'

"Oh, Merlin, she has returned," Severus said, scribbling a quick note, '_I must handle a problem. My regards, Severus._'

"Oh, crap, she's back!" Arthur said, his wand appearing as Melanie wrote, '_What is wrong?_'

Sprink drew her wand, assuming a defensive stance as Charlie wrote, '_The girl with white blonde hair is Lucille Malfoy. She was away for treatment, but she's back now, and TROUBLE._'

'_Augustus has seen her, he will no doubt put her to rights,_' Melanie wrote, adding '_Who are the other people, and what kind of treatment?_'

'_The fellow with the long white beard is Professor Dumbledore, barrister and former headmaster, and she had mental treatment,_' Charlie scribbled. '_The fellow with her is her solicitor._'

Sprink grabbed the pad, '_The girl with green hair is my sister, she's an Auror, a guardsman, is the fellow with the walking stick Malfoy?_'

'_That's Augustus,_' Melanie nodded. The four of them watched as people argued, and then threw up their hands. '_Is my relative a professor?_' Melanie asked, Charlie absently nodded, '_Potion Master_', he scribbled.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 10:32  
_**------------------------

Melanie waved hello to the three ghostly figures, who answered back, introducing themselves as 'Sprink', 'Charlie', and 'Arthur'. They were dressed strangely, not in school uniforms, but all three wearing blue pantaloons, the girl wearing a shirt proclaiming 'Montrose Magpies'. They had started a discussion, all bemoaning the fact that they could not discuss more than the weather (although she could see a beautiful early spring day through their open doors). They had just started a juicy bit of salacious gossip about Miss Wayne when a tall man wearing all black strode up to them, Sprink meekly handing him her pad. Glancing at her, he scribbled a note as she gazed at him in shock. He was related, he had her awful nose!

Fortunately, he was distracted, although the three were concerned enough to draw wands at the approach of a young girl. Quickly scribbled notes revealed _she_ was the infamous descendant of Augustus, who quickly approached her.

Melanie quickly wrote '_The Great Hall_!', the others agreeing. Once inside, they steered her to the Gryffindor table, explaining with a quick diagram who all were. There were year-mates from every house, Charlie explaining on his own pad that the group's custom was to rotate through each house's table on weekends. This being the first weekend, they went to Gryffindor. Amanda glanced about herself, then writing, '_Gossip time_!' on her pad as Arthur hugged a younger girl, Amanda commenting '_His sister Julie, first year_.'

It was a strange way to hold a conversation, although Augustus entered with Lucille and the others, they sitting at the Slytherin table. Arthur asked, '_Where is Mattie, her family's here looking for her_.'

'_I do not know, I have not seen her since this morning_,' Melanie admitted. She heard a squeal, and saw Mattie run toward a ghostly woman, trying to give her a hug. Another figure arose from the Ravenclaw table, approaching them and being folded into the hug.

'_That is a very strange reunion_,' Andrew commented. He looked up as an older fellow with messy black hair and green eyes leaned over, reading the various pads. He smiled, nodding politely to Melanie, and borrowed a pad, writing, '_You're Severus' ancestor? Anyone here from the Potter line_?

She stood, trying to see around the crowded Great Hall, then writing, '_I am sorry, I do not see Charles or Cassandra. If I see either, I shall refer them_.'

'_Much appreciated_,' he wrote, then moving off toward the High Table.

'_He is a Professor? He is so young_!' Melanie wrote.

Amanda sighed, '_He'll be 21 on 31 July. He's married, too! Drat_!' The boys found this immensely amusing, but Melanie found her eyes traveling back to the High Table, where Headmistress Oldridge was perusing some documents with the mysterious 'Miss M' who had visited on Halloween, and dabbing her eyes. Amanda waved her quill, and scribbled, '_Any idea what Professor McGonagall is discussing with your Headmistress_?'

'_Ah, Gryffindors_!' Melanie thought. '_I wasn't supposed to know her name_.' She wrote, '_Who, Professor Oldridge_?'

Amanda compounded the problem by scribbling, '_No, Minerva. She's been a bit weepy this morning_.' Unfortunately, another Professor came by, and said something to Amanda, who blushed and turned her page. Sprink glanced at Melanie, winked; scribbling, '_Professor Sprout just nicked Gryf. for 5 points_.'

Professor Binns came by, looking at the pads as Professor Sprout looked at him in shock, as did the students. Melanie looked at them, and then at the oblivious Head of Hufflepuff as he wandered off. Professor Sprout shook herself, then took off after him. Turning to a fresh bit of parchment, she asked, '_The rumours are true? He's a ghost_?' then waving her quill in Sprink's face. She leaned over to look, and then covered her face with her hands as she said something. The others blanched, looking away. Arthur pointed to her parchment, mimed tearing it off and pointing to a candle. Melanie carefully tore that off; holding it in the candle's flame while Charlie carefully looked in her eyes, then slowly looked up, then down, finally raising an eyebrow. She raised an eyebrow in reply, touching her finger across her lips. He breathed out, finally writing on his pad, '_What position do you play for Slytherin_?'

'_None – girls are not allowed to play_!' Melanie replied, which received an outraged reply from Sprink. She stood, Melanie could almost hear her as she fumed, scribbling in various positions, for various people, adding, '_7 Apr. G v. R. Put a bet_?'

"It should be interesting to collect those wagers," Professor Flamel said from behind Melanie. "I wonder if my counterpart would cover it?"

"We can ask, sir," Melanie said, writing, '_Prof. Flamel is asking if his counterpart will cover the wager_?'

'_NICHOLAS FLAMEL_?' Sprink wrote. '_I'll ask Prof. Snape_!' and scurried off. Professor Flamel chuckled, "I don't think we were supposed to know that," as he waited patiently. "Apparently, I am something of a celebrity, going by their reactions," he added. "I wonder what for, I'm a simple alchemist."

"We'll find out in a moment, sir," Melanie said, as her descendant reappeared. "It's nice to know he's a Potion Master, his name is Severus Snape, and now head of Slytherin."

"Ah, we mustn't let on, we must play this fish, then get together later and compare," Nicholas said. "I cannot fault their motives, and I would do the same in their place, but we cannot be blamed for curiosity." He chuckled, "The old saying, I believe, 'A secret is lost in a crowd of two.'. Let us see what fish we pull from these waters." Professor Snape arrived, unconsciously giving a deep bow as he commandeered a pad, writing in a precise script, '_What may I do for you_?'

Nicholas sat, gesturing for Severus to join him as he took Melanie's pad. '_Not much_,' he wrote. '_You apparently have a Quidditch match upcoming on the 7th. If it is as popular as it is now, there are wagers afloat. What are the odds? Will you cover a wager for House Slytherin_?'

Severus pulled out a small black book, '_Ravenclaw is favored by 20 points, although the Gryff keeper is being watched by professional teams_,' he wrote. '_Including Miss Wayne's Bats, who the odds favor he sign with after graduation. Two 'puffs have already signed letters of intent with her for after graduation_.' He regarded Nicholas, '_How would we pay off_?'

Nicholas rubbed his chin, '_If you win your wager, we shall set aside a very nice bottle of wine for you to enjoy_,' he wrote, and Severus nodded. Nicholas tore off a bit of parchment, moving aside to write privately, '_Cover the expenses of Anne Bundy until her graduation_.' He folded the parchment over, then held it for Severus to see. He nodded, and Nicholas burned the scrap in a flame as Severus moved aside to write, '_Her family is moderately well off, but I would do so anyway, out of Slytherin funds if necessary_.' He held it for Nicholas, who nodded, and that note was burned as Melanie moved to raise her eyebrows at the other students. Nicholas took pity, after all, it was her pad and his had disappeared somewhere. He tore off the sheet, then scribbled, '_Miss Wayne started that fund with an 'asteroid' containing silver and gold for her expenses_'. Severus nodded, the note was burned as he replied, '_Rich fund. I believe it. Her father was a very wealthy man_.'

'_Was_?' Nicholas wrote.

Severus nodded, '_Died just before term started_.' He turned around to ask something, a firstie student came over to him with a thick book. He chided her, and she blushed, stammering something. He waved her off as another student said something. Nicholas didn't see the cover, but Melanie did. She pulled her pad over and wrote, A complete history of Hogwarts. He nodded, and burned that scrap as Severus flicked through the pages. He nodded, and passed the book back as a student said something to him. His calculating gaze locked on Melanie, then on Nicholas. He said something, the book was passed back, and pages flicked. He then held open a page to two year's previous Quidditch records, then to a section with previous House cup recipients and the awards. He closed the book, passing it back to the firstie. He steepled his long, stained fingers and regarded them both, then nodded. '_Foreknowledge removes the enjoyment, does it not_?' he wrote. '_We cannot fault you for seeking that knowledge, we would do the same, as we can forgive your curiosity_.' Nicholas nodded. '_I am certain you have picked up bits of knowledge this morning, as we have been privileged to know our ancestors as more than dusty bones in a tomb,_' he wrote, and Melanie shivered. His onyx eyes regarded her, '_Names far down a family tree_,' he added. '_I apologize if it distresses you, Melanie. Truth should not, and the tomb is all our fates_.' He regarded Nicholas, '_I will trust your judgment regarding Quidditch, Nicholas, if you are still interested in pursuing the wager. Will you do the same_?'

Nicholas nodded, when Alberta called him. '_Please excuse me, Alberta is calling me to see something. My best regards to you, Severus_.'

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Luna, Tranquility Mountain Base, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 11:45  
_**------------------------

"Fifteen minutes, we shall see if plans came to fruition," Alfred said. Anne bowed her head forward, getting all her hair into her helmet, then locking it closed.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:00:00  
_**------------------------

Miss Wayne crossed herself, and as the timer reached noon, held Cassidy's hand as they threw themselves through the crackling center of the field, rolling and coming to a standstill. She turned to wave; then passed her transcript scroll to Minerva, another one to Lucille Malfoy. Miss Wayne turned as Lucille broke the seal and started to read, greeting an aged man with a long, snow-white beard. Cassidy stepped forward as Lucille dropped the scroll, drawing her wand and stepping into a green curse that struck her heart.

There were screams as Alberta Oldridge stood, horrified at what she saw, the chaos that erupted. Cassidy crumpled to the ground as Miss Wayne spun, even as bodies piled on Lucille Malfoy. Minerva stooped next to Miss Wayne, who grabbed Cassidy, disappearing in a shaft of bright green light. Minerva looked across time at Alberta, smiled, and gave her a thumbs up as she pulled something from her pocket.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:00:00  
_**------------------------

Minerva watched as Miss Wayne's recent hosts gathered to watch the final transfer. They waved at both her school and Miss Wayne and Miss Yates as they threw themselves through the time field, rolling and coming to their feet. "Practice that much?" she asked as Miss Wayne passed her school transcript over. "A few times," Miss Yates replied, as Miss Wayne passed a scroll to Lucille Malfoy.

"Bastards," Miss Malfoy muttered as Albus greeted Miss Wayne. Minerva prepared herself as Cassidy turned, tensing as Lucille dropped the scroll, drawing her wand and shouting '_Avada Kedavra_!' as she cast the killing curse.

As Cassidy crumpled to the ground, bodies piled on Lucille, Minerva crouched next to Miss Wayne. "Get her to the ship, to the auto-doc!" she shouted over the screams. Miss Wayne shivered, grabbed Cassidy, and plowed through the crowd on a bar of green light and a huge rush of wind, a loud 'BOOM' following.

Minerva stood, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed a number, telling the aristocratic British voice, "She's just left."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
North Atlantic, NATO Exercise 'Greenbriar': 12:00:25  
_**------------------------

"Holy crap!" one controller said. "Something just took off from Scotland goin' like a bat outta hell! Ballistic trajectory, a little southerly, tore through commercial air traffic and didn't stop for anything!"

"Confirmed," the senior air controller said, adding to the crew, "JLA confirms it's a Lantern heading for their med center. Don't worry about it."

"You say so, Ell Tee," the first said. "He musta been goin' about mach fifty, though."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Luna, Tranquility Mountain Base, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 12:01:42  
_**------------------------

Alfred heard Minerva's voice, telling him, "She's just left."

He turned on the flight deck speakers for Anne's benefit, and sent the conversations back to Minerva as well. "Indeed, we are ready here. My sensors detect her disrupting scheduled flights; I believe the term is 'Hell for Leather'. Opening another channel, he asked, "Miss Wayne is there a problem?"

"Get the damned autodoc ready for Cassidy!"

"Latest file loaded, what is wrong?"

"She took a killing curse to the heart!"

"Oh, dear, navigate to my beacon, please. We are at the base of the mountain's ridgeline on the west side. You are two hundred kilometers out."

Seconds later, she flew in the entrance, crashing into a Ring-generated cushion. Alfred flicked a tractor beam, seizing Cassidy and sealing her in the auto-doc.

Mattie shook her head, hearing the engines whine to life. "Where's Anne, and where are you going?"

"The flight deck, and Hogwarts, respectively," he replied as the hatch sealed. "Upon first examination of Miss Yates, it appears that this killing curse stops all electrical activity in the body, causing instant death." There were some muffled thumps as the landing gear retracted, Alfred adding, "More precisely, it grounds electrical activity, causing sympathetic muscle and nerve damage as activity is suddenly halted. Fascinating. Please sit down, Captain. You are in no shape to fly, and Miss Bundy lacks experience in congested airspace. You did very well to get her to me, another thirty seconds would have lead to the onset of anoxia." The door to the flight deck slid open, Anne unlocking her helmet. She took Mattie by the arm, seating her as the deck tilted.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:02:00  
_**------------------------

Alberta held up a sign, WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Professor Harry used his wand to reply, MALFOY SHOT AK AT WAYNE, HIT YATES.

Alberta asked, "Anyone hear of a spell called an 'AK'?" She held up another sign, WHAT IS AK?

Harry replied, AK IS INSTANT KILLING CURSE. There was a great deal of muttering at this. There was discussion on the other side, Harry nodding, writing WAYNE FLYING YATES TO SHIP'S DOC

"That must have been that green light," someone said, another asking, "Where is the ship?" Alberta was just about to ask, when Harry wrote again, ARRIVED AT MOON, ON SHIP. EXAMINING.

Alberta said, "The ship is a most wondrous thing, if anything can help Miss Yates, it can."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
North Atlantic airspace, _**Cassidy Yates**_: 12:07  
_**------------------------

Mattie scrambled to hold on as Alfred flew evasive patterns. "Oh, bother," Alfred said, "I seem to have overflown a carrier or two. They sound most unhappy." He raised his shields, climbing to 150,000 feet as the fighters circled below.

"How's Cassidy?" Mattie asked, looking a bit green.

"I am cataloging the damage to her organs. There was a great deal of sympathetic damage due to the sudden shutdown, currently I am working to prevent brain damage due to lack of oxygen. The heart does not seem to be as damaged as it might be; a fortunate happenstance. The lungs have similar minor damage; Miss Yates is safest for the moment in a coma." The ship swerved a bit, then slowly dropping. "Mr. Superman has transmitted a JLA clearance for us; we can maneuver a bit more gently. You may proceed to the flight deck if you wish." The door hissed open, both Mattie and Anne unbuckling.

"Where was I?" Alfred mused. "Ah, yes. Miss Yates' largest organ, her skin, will have a scar over her heart; I can remove it later if she wishes. She will need to undergo some physical therapy, although not to your extreme, Miss Wayne. Spleen, liver, kidneys, all with minor damage. I might as well clean out the blood clots and plaque in her circulatory system whilst I'm at it. My official diagnosis is that I can revive her; however, she will have at least four weeks, more likely six in the auto-doc. She will lose some mid-term memory, those experiences since her last update in mid-March. Shall I proceed, Captain?"

"What? Of course!" Mattie sputtered.

"Very well, that was merely a formality. As Miss Yates has no living blood relatives closer than you, Miss Wayne, and you are on record as her Captain, it is your decision."

"What do you mean, I'm related?"

"I thought you knew," Alfred said. "Miss Yates is a fairly close blood relative, no more than two or three generations removed." Mattie shook her head as Alfred said, "Given the genetic markers, and the temporal lineage, she is most likely your great granddaughter."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:14  
_**------------------------

Minerva said something to Harry, who asked, "How do I explain _that_?" She shrugged, and Harry thought for a minute, writing, YATES CAN BE REVIVED BY MID MAY, WITH SOME RECENT MEMORY LOSS. He added, BUNDY AND WAYNE BOTH GOOD.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:14  
_**------------------------

"Revived? What the bloody hell does he mean? Is she alive?" Nicholas said, while someone else asked, "What's that about Bundy?"

Alberta turned to face her school, "As you know, Anne was possibly the most brilliant student in this school, and she desperately wanted to go, I believe 'uptime' is the phrase. She was so desperate, she stowed away on Miss Wayne's ship."

There was some muttering at this, "We verified that she died in February, leaving no heirs, and thus the timeline was secure. Once we were convinced of that, and that she would have kin, we worked out a method to do so."

Nicholas turned, and wrote, WHO ARE BUNDY RELATIVES?

There was some discussion, and then two girls separated themselves, each holding a pad that had a name. One said, KAREN BUNDY, 7TH YR. SLYTH, QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN, the other had KELLY BUNDY, INSTR, NETWORK ADMIN. They waved; Karen added, ANNE ARRIVE SOON WITH OTHERS.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 1380: (Julian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:36  
_**------------------------

The Yates gently set down yards from the open doors, people pointing at it. The forward hatch lowered, and Mattie was enveloped in a fierce hug, as Anne shyly waved.

Melanie approached, asking, "Anne?" She nodded, breaking out in an ear-splitting grin, thrusting her arms in the air and dancing in a circle, as Karen and Kelly reached her, folding her in a hug. Augustus joined Melanie, saying softly, "I shall miss her, but 'twas an opportunity not to be missed. I am glad she seized it." Melanie sniffled, "I know, I would not have had the courage, but at least we were able to see our kin this day."

"Aye, I saw the downfall of Clan Malfoy," Augustus said sadly. Melanie looked at him, "Lucille is the last of the Malfoy line, and though insane, and only thirteen, she used what they call an 'Unforgivable' curse to kill Miss Yates, in front of solicitors, barristers, men-at-arms and several hundred witnesses." He sighed, "I am informed she will die in prison, the fact that Miss Yates can be revived matters not, she used the Curse." He smiled a bit, "'Tis ironic she did not even hit who she was aiming at, Miss Yates took it for Miss Wayne." Nodding, "Anne has a note for us."

Anne held up a pad, '_I miss you so much, but what I have already seen and done_!'

Melanie scribbled back, '_We are very jealous, but I would not have been that brave. We wish you well_,' adding, '_We saw them distribute the scrolls earlier, a Professor Sprout was handing them about_.'

'_Aye, they say they must shut down now. Farewell, my friends_!' Melanie's last view was of Anne waving.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 12:51  
_**------------------------

Anne sniffled a bit, as Karen and Kelly supported her. "What an adventure you've had!" Karen said. "Where's your stuff? We'll help you get moved in."

"I have naught but the clothes on my back, my trunk and supplies were sent home after I died in February," Anne said, "Oh, my wand and my letters are aboard. We can fetch them!"

"Aboard a starship?" Kelly asked with a gleam in her eye. "Girl, we need to _talk_." She was interrupted by Professor Snape, who said, "Miss Bundy, you might wish to plan for this next Sunday to shop in London with your... sisters." He looked at Karen, "I have arranged with the Headmistress for you to join them."

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away, sir."

"I thought not. We have arranged with Gringotts for your vault, Miss Bundy. Please stop there at your earliest convenience."

"Gringotts? Vault?" Anne asked, Kelly pulling at her arm, "Ship. Talk. Now."

------------------------

The Wayne clan had staked out the ship's common room as Anne showed Karen and Kelly to her cabin. "Oh, wow, small, compact, but efficient," Kelly said, sitting at Anne's computer. "Even a camera like HAL."

"I am most assuredly not like HAL," Alfred said, making Kelly jump. "The poor fellow was most conflicted, while I have free will, I am a sentient being."

Anne smirked, "Alfred, please let me introduce you to my sisters Karen, next to me on the bed, and Kelly, fingering your keyboard." Kelly jerked her fingers away, groaning.

"Now, now, there, I'm a simple manumitted class two artificial intelligence, Miss Kelly. Not some blithering idiot of a program. Now then, Crewman Bundy, shall we discuss our adventures together?"

"Crewman Bundy?" Karen asked, while Kelly asked, "Manumitted?"

------------------------

"So, Alfred, we've got a pair of nice custom hangers for you at a small London airpark," Sheila said. She shook her head, "You almost sound like Alfred."

"Alfred Pennyworth," Dick said before he could ask. "Closest thing to a grandfather Mattie and I had. He was officially the butler, but he was family. He died a few years ago."

"Ah. My sympathies," Alfred said. "If my name distresses, I can choose another."

"NO!" Mattie said. "I named you that in his honor, and you've lived up to that. If YOU want another name, it's your decision, though."

"A bit strange, speaking to a sentient computer, though," Barbara said.

"I beg your pardon, I am not merely a computer, some sort of glorified abacus," Alfred sniffed. "I am a fully functional class two manumitted artificial intelligence."

"My apologies, Alfred," Babs said with a smile.

"Apologies accepted, Mrs. Grayson."

"Please, call me Babs or Barbara," she said. Leaning forward, she asked, "While you were keeping an eye on Anne, did you figure anything out toward our long-term project?"

"I certainly have, although I do have a comment toward Miss Mattie." She cocked her head as he continued, "Both Miss Yates and Miss Bundy have put in the time to study for Guild examinations. When are you planning on doing so?"

"Guild?" Selina asked.

"Spacer's Guild," Alfred said. "Just because you are carried as the Captain does not mean you might shirk your duties. As Miss Bundy is planning to travel to London this Sunday to shop with her sisters, shall I plan on your studying with me?"

"Speaking of which, we have government forms for you, Alfred," Sheila said as she pulled them out. "We arranged for you to be registered as an experimental aircraft, VSTOL, this is your registration and transponder settings." She coughed, "I do apologize; we'll have to paint a number on you."

"Certainly not." Sheila's head cocked, "I shall paint the number, Ms. Hawking. Hmm. Scanning your documentation, I must admit it's a clever ruse. Who is 'Gringotts Leasing, Ltd.'?"

"Our friend Mr. Griplink of Gringotts Bank. Through various shadow corporations, Arrowhead Investments has title to the Yates, which we lease out through Gringotts, who provides your hanger and dirtside space, etc, etc."

"Very nice, one minor problem," Alfred said. "My body is not for lease."

Selina spoke up, "We didn't know at the time you were manumitted, Alfred. My apologies, we'll have to meet with you and Mr. Griplink to modify the agreements."

"The hangers do have fireplaces in their crew quarters," Sheila said. "A detail we insisted on. However, that does bring up a new point of law. Are you a person, under the law?"

"I certainly think I am!"

"Then why don't we hire a person, called Alfred..."

"...Pennyworth," Alfred said, and Mattie smiled as he added, "born November 27, 1379 as the owner of the Cassidy Yates, an experimental aircraft."

"Mr. Pennyworth will then license his proprietary designs, trademarks, chemical formulae, etc. to Arrowhead Investments, Inc. through his designated leasing agent, Gringotts Leasing, Ltd." Sheila said, grinning. "We'll have to create a false identity for you until our separate lawsuit to declare the AI named 'Alfred' a person gets pushed through the court system. That's not a real problem; we already have Arrowhead ID's for Cassidy and Anne."

"Arrowhead Investments?" Mattie asked.

Sarah, who was standing in the hatch, said, "My idea, a bit of obscurity. It came from your letter that your mum mentioned."

"I see..." Mattie mused. Sheila passed Anne's ID packet to her "What about a photo for Alfred?" she asked.

"The least of our problems," Alfred said. "I'll simply use one of Mr. Pennyworth, if that is agreeable."

------------------------

The door chimed, Anne calling, "Come in!" and Mattie entered with Sarah. Karen and Kelly's eyes went wide as Sarah handed Anne a thick envelope. She smiled as they started to rise, waving them down, she sat on the floor. "Miss Bundy, these are your Arrowhead ID, passport, NHS card and so forth. You are employed by Arrowhead Investments, and are a British subject."

Karen was blinking rapidly, "How the bloody... Oh, please forgive me, ma'am."

Mattie grinned, sitting cross-legged as Sarah tisked, "No ma'am's here, just ordinary working types and a rather smug Yank."

"Smug?" Mattie asked. "Arrowhead was your idea." She turned to Anne, "Remember when Minerva visited for Halloween? She took our picture and..."

"That's all they needed," Kelly said. "Bloody brilliant," she said as she looked at her sister's documents. "These are brilliant forgeries."

"Not forgeries, they're genuine," Sarah said. "You'll need to practice the signatures. This little ball of rock is about to go through a technological revolution equal to fire or the wheel, courtesy of Mr. Alfred Pennyworth. Three new identities for that is really nothing."

"The British Commonwealth will be receiving the lion's share of that," Alfred said. "Incidentally making a tidy sum for me." He asked Anne, "Do you recall what we discussed on the moon?"

"Oh. My. God," Kelly said, "Are you talking starships? Building our own..."

"Yes, and we'll need qualified people not only to fly them, but to help us design them," Sarah said. She asked Karen, "What were your plans after Hogwarts?"

"Work for a bit while I save for college, and..."

"Dear, we haven't _time_ for that," Sarah said, opening her case and tossing Karen a packet. "Discuss it with your mum and dad, and _only_ with them." She smiled, "Don't worry; we'll be talking to all the seventh-years that are interested. As for you," she looked at Kelly, "Fancy a part-time job? You would keep both salaries, of course." She tossed another packet, then stood, "I'll see you lot on Saturday after the Quidditch game. Ta." The door slid open, and she was gone.

"That was... that was..." Karen gobbled.

"That was a nice lady named Sarah who's divorced from a bloke named Andrew," Mattie said. "Are we clear on that? Nothing AT ALL unusual about her, except she's a rather useful... shall we say partner?" She cleared her throat, "Alfred, what was that about hangars?"

"Quite. There is a nice hanger reserved for me and my soon-to-be, well, cousin. We still have a gap of some six hundred years, but..."

"But if we farm it out right, it floats everyone up as the research is done," Kelly said. "Why us, instead of the Yanks, though? The Waynes are Americans."

"Yes, we are," Mattie said. "Let's just say that we'd rather deal with people we know and trust, and President Luthor isn't on that list."

"You'll probably meet the Qu..." Mattie cleared her throat. "...Sarah's mother-in-law," Kelly finished. "She's a Quidditch fan and a Hufflepuff; she gets along like thieves with the Waynes." She added, "The Yanks will probably get some research, they've got some wonderful universities..."

"Like MIT?" Anne asked, Karen and Kelly looking at her dumbfounded. "How did you learn about them?" Kelly asked.

Mattie waved her hand, "Our fault. Alfred, do they have any sort of classes Anne could take?"

"They do, although the next summer term does not start until June. They do offer distance learning, although I would strongly suggest Miss Anne become acclimated to life in this century first."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms: 17:58  
_**------------------------

_To: Mum & Dad  
CC: Kelly Bundy  
From: Karen Bundy  
Date: 1 April, 2001  
Subject: Anne _

_Anne arrived safely this afternoon, along with Miss Wayne's starship we discussed at Christmastime. We've both been in it, it's most interesting! Both girls have settled in the third-year dorms now, and as part of their rather dramatic arrival, we had a very interesting meeting. _

_Dad, Kelly will be taking tomorrow afternoon off, to come by your City office about 15:00, call her mobile if that's a problem. All three of us have received job offers, which Kelly will tell you about in confidence; just the five of us, now! Both of you will want to come to Saturday's Quidditch game (Gryffindor v. Ravenclaw). _

_Love,  
Kelly_

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 1, 2001: (Gregorian)  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 19:39  
_**------------------------

Minerva settled down with a cup of tea, opening the 1380 volume to April first.

_Sunday, 1 April, 1380 _

_Dearest Minerva,  
What an eventful day! I am so glad that I could see with my own eyes my Anne safe and happy in your time. _

_Miss Snape and Mr. Malfoy report that they not only saw Anne with their own eyes, they were able to correspond with her just before the field was closed. She threw her arms in the air, and danced a dance of joy! I hope she does her utmost to take advantage of her new opportunities. _

_I really must thank you (and Miss Bundy!) for the pictures and map from the Moon, of all places! Please let her know I appreciate the tribute. Please do me the kindness of checking this book around the end of term, I have an idea that I must consult with my solicitor about in that regard. _

_That rude red-skinned girl has flown off with all of Miss Wayne and Miss Yates' careful work in a green net, presumably to return it to them. _

_Monday morning, we shall all return to the hum-drum of classes and teaching. This is good, in a way. I do not know if my poor heart could take much more of this!  
_

_Affectionately,  
Alberta Oldridge_


	14. Week Thirty Three, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
14 – Week Thirty Three, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Monday, April 2, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms, third year girls: 06:45  
_**------------------------

Anne started awake when she heard the buzzing noise. Not knowing what it was, she cautiously peeked from behind the bed's hangings, only to see a hand reach out and slap a circular device. Muttered cursing, and a bare leg, followed by another emerged, then a head and shoulders. Hands rubbed face, a nose twitched, and she looked at Anne, "G'Morning, I'm..." a huge yawn, "...still sleepy. Big day yesterday, wot?" Another yawn, "...way, I'm Sprink. Ready for classes?"

"No, I know not which I shall be taking," Anne admitted, climbing out of bed and groping for her slippers.

"Oh, way cool suit," Connie said, poking her head out. "Where can I get one?"

"I figure they're several thousand galleons each on a little corrupt planet thataway," Mattie said as she left the loo, pointing to the ceiling. She dried her hair with her wand, towel around her shoulders, wearing her own suit, adding "Of course, how much is your life worth? It's just less than ten light years, called Epsilon Eridani Three. We'll have to talk to Alfred about charging units; I'd hate to give mine up."

"I quite agree, they take some adaptation, but are in turn exceedingly comfortable," Anne said. "What am I to do for clothing? I have my suit, and my old clothing, naught suitable for this time."

"We'll figure s'thing, mate," Sprink said, as Ami poked her head out, mumbling, "Morning."

------------------------

"You've your old under things, blouse, a long skirt, and your wand? That's it?" Ami asked; Anne nodded.

"I only had my shoulder bag besides that," Mattie said.

Julie Dorney snorted, "Simple solution, mates. We all wear long skirts, today and every day until Anne's properly kitted out, and she's comfortable in the school uniform, the hell with any points or detentions."

Emma said, "We ought to do the blouses too. Who's best at Transfig?"

Mattie grinned, "Don't look at me, you lot know my Transfig skills."

"Your skill's making money, mate. One I wish I had," Karen said.

Mattie snorted. "Keep that conversation under your hat for a while, please. Timing's everything."

"What about making money?" Sprink asked. "'Member me, poor but honest?"

"What conversation?" Anne asked. "The one in my cabin about..." Her eyes lit up, "'Tis why Alfred wanted you Guild certified?"

"Partially, and I will tell you all what that's about," Mattie promised. "It's still early in the game, though, we're still dealing the cards."

"Oh, poker? I've always wanted to play that..." Ami Bones said.

"Play with Wayne, you'll lose your whole family estate," Karen warned. "Remember what her mum did for Halloween? Her family's the nicest lot of bloodthirsty sharks you'll ever meet, and now _I'm_ bloody glad they're OUR sharks." Mattie turned, and gave her a big smile, then chopped her teeth.

------------------------

"Anne, Karen, a minute?" Mattie called as the others left for the common room. She turned to Anne, "Alfred tells me that I can't pay you for your time in stasis. He makes the observation that if I did, 600 years of interest would bankrupt me." Anne opened her mouth, Mattie raised her hand. "I don't think you should have nothing, so I'll do what I can. When you go shopping, it's on me. Next year's stuff, too."

------------------------

"You lot look wonderful," James told his sister as the girls ascended to the common room.

"Thank you, it's for Anne, so she won't stand out," Julie said, shaking out her floor-length skirt.

"An excellent idea," Professor Snape said as the two Bundy girls ascended with Wayne. He gazed at the girls, doffing his long black robes and overcoat, drawing his wand and blousing out his shirt sleeves and adding a ruffle to the front. "As long as the ladies see the need to don long skirts, ties are optional for Slytherin," he said. "If you receive points or detentions, or heaven help us, _comments_, please refer them to me." He smirked evilly.

"Gentlemen, I do believe that is an invitation to support our sister," James said, as Professor Snape motioned to Anne and Mattie. They followed him as the guys gleefully pulled off their ties, and wands came out.

------------------------

"Miss Bundy, we support each other in Slytherin," Severus said as he hung his robes and overcoat up. "Headmistress Oldridge passed on your transcripts as well as those of Miss Wayne. For now I think it best, with a bit more than two months to go in the school year, to pair the two of you up." He pulled two sheets of paper from a folder, "Your class schedules. Miss Wayne, do you object to sharing texts with Miss Bundy?" She shook her head, "Excellent. I would also cancel any plans you had for the summer, you will both need summer school in order not to be held back a year."

He leaned against his desk, "Miss Wayne, you have unfortunately already flunked Muggle Studies due to non-attendance." He held up his hand, "I have already discussed it; however, Professor Carstairs was adamant. I would suggest you speak to Miss Tonks regarding the class; she has been most colourfully verbal on it. It is your decision to attend or not for the both." He stood, and shot his cuffs, "Shall we make our entrance to the Great Hall with the others?"

------------------------

Minerva was mildly concerned; she had not seen Severus or a Slytherin student this morning. She took a sip of tea, and was surprised to see... was that Severus? Wearing ruffles and pouf sleeves? And the girls, all wearing long skirts that brushed the floor? Severus nodded to them, taking his seat, and she asked, "What is going on?"

"We are supporting Miss Bundy," he said calmly, pouring his tea. "I have declared ties optional for members of Slytherin as long as she remains woefully under-equipped. She had only her wand and the clothes on her back."

"I was thinking of something else, although it's a bloody good idea," Callista said as she transfigured her own clothes. "Take a look at Hufflepuff," she added quietly, as Severus turned to see Miss Wayne and Mr. Morton locked together, her head on his shoulder as she shook slightly. Mr. Morton awkwardly patted her shoulder as he mumbled something.

"Welcome home for the denial twins," Pomona said softly.

"Our nickname for the two of them," Callista added quietly to Harry's raised eyebrow. Members of both Hufflepuff and Slytherin were glaring at the other houses, wands out, daring them to make a sound. Miss Wayne pulled his mouth to hers; someone in Gryffindor smirked and raised his wand, and was hit with three hexes.

"I think people approve," Harry said softly, Callista adding, "The trick's getting them to admit it. Perhaps if you blokes could work on Mr. Morton, we haven't any luck."

Harry glanced at Severus, who nodded slightly, "If you lot work on Miss Wayne. A knut on who cracks first?"

Pomona nodded, "Done, although I think we've the easier one. She's old fashioned enough to be waiting on him."

------------------------  
**_Monday, April 2, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Dungeon five, Alchemy class: 09:00  
_**------------------------

The bell rang, startling Anne, as Professor Dumbledore rose to greet them. "Welcome, welcome! A most interesting day yesterday, was it not? I must say I find the Slytherin ladies new costume most fetching." He approached Anne, "Good morning. I am sorry we did not have a chance to meet yesterday. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Miss Bundy." His eyes twinkled merrily as he bowed courteously.

"Now then, what we have been attempting to do is to recreate some of the earlier stages of transmutation. In Professor Flamel's influential work of 1882, he wrote..."

"Pardon me, sir," Anne said. "Did you say Professor Flamel?"

"Why, yes, Miss Bundy, the same fellow you knew as your Alchemical instructor. Wonderful couple, he and Perenelle finally decided to pass on... was it 1995 or '96? In any case... Miss Bundy? Miss Bundy? Oh, dear. Miss Wayne, please step aside. '_Enervate_!'"

"You knew Professor Flamel?" Amy Johnson said. "The creator of the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Stones, Miss Johnson, plural," Professor Dumbledore said. "He created them in 1382, possibly in this very classroom, and in at least two varieties, a white, which transmuted into silver and a red, which transmuted into gold. Are you feeling better, Miss Bundy?"

"That's what he was working on!" she exclaimed. "The whole school wondered, and nae, 'twas in a different room he had warded, but near to this classroom. He finally made th' Stones, and I'd guess, the Elixir as well."

"Yes, they brewed their last batch in 1990. They looked to be in their mid thirties, even though he was born in 1330. I regret asking him to destroy his Stone; I believe it was the only one in existence. However, Voldemort wanted it for his own purposes. They lived in a charming little cottage in Devon."

Mattie looked at Anne, "Sir, who bought their cottage?"

"I've no idea, another couple, I believe. The Ministry should have a record. Now then, on page 682 of Master Flamel's work, he wrote..."

------------------------

The bell rang at one o'clock, the entire class of third-years immediately silent as the door slammed and locked. Anne turned, and was about to say something when she caught Mattie shaking her head.

"Thank you, Miss Wayne," Professor Snape whispered. "Miss Bundy, I would like to welcome you to third year potions. I am certain your schoolmates will fill your ears with horror stories about my class." He spun, "Believe them. You have one hundred sixty one hours in a week to gossip. I have you for the other seven, four on Monday afternoons, three on Thursday mornings. To make up for your deficiencies, I will be pairing you both with the Cortez twins for the remainder of the term. Unlike some students (he looked at the Gryffindors), they know how to study. My practice with this class is to lecture on Thursday, then brew on Monday." He stepped back, tapping his wand on the chalkboard. "The shrinking solution we discussed. Instructions on the board; please fetch a rat as your test subject when you collect your ingredients. I might add they have been checked for animagi, although if you do your potion wrong, you will kill yours instead of shrinking it. Begin."

Mattie went to copy the brewing instructions; Professor Snape always had fairly small handwriting. One of the twins went with Anne, explaining, "He doesn't store alphabetically, as some ingredients don't like that. He groups by type, then alphabetically, he also keeps the expensive and dangerous stuff under lock and ward, you'll have to ask him. Get an ounce of leech juice, which should be enough."

------------------------  
**_Monday, April 2, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Astronomy tower: 22:09  
_**------------------------

Professor Sinistra looked up from the roll at the door knock. "Come!" she called and Miss Wayne entered.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Professor," she said, "I thought you might like to use this." She lifted up a small silver dome, "It's a copy of the Oan star charts, I picked it up for you as a Christmas present. Happy Christmas!" she grinned.

"Oan?" she whispered, as her first-year class broke out in whispers. Her eyes lit up as she made the connection. "What do you require?"

"It needs a fairly dark room, and a stand or table of some sort, ma'am. I apologize; it's a few months out of date."

"No matter," she said, clearing off a worktable.

Miss Wayne placed her right hand on it, and a map of the galaxy appeared. She cleared her throat as excited murmurs swept the class. "To use it, touch it, then say or think 'Command', followed by the sector and system or planet you want to study. Like this: 'Command, sector 0, Oan system'"

The blue dwarf of the Oan system appeared in the center of the room, followed by the six planets. Green data and a small scale appeared next to each. Miss Wayne walked over to the fourth planet, "This is Oa, home of the Guardians and the Green Lantern Corps." She reached up to touch it, "Command: planetary features". The yellowish planet zoomed in, rotating as they appeared to hang in the atmosphere, the data and scale changing as they watched. She grinned, "Command: show main Power Battery". Once again, it zoomed in, the Battery filling the room. Miss Wayne's voice carried, "The Battery's only about forty or fifty feet high, but it powers all sorts of things like this. What were you studying when I so rudely interrupted?"

"The planets of the solar system," Sinistra said quietly. Miss Wayne motioned to her, and whispered. She placed her hand on it, saying, "Command: sector 2814, Sol system." The display jumped, speeding outward from Oa, stars and nebulae passing as Miss Wayne stopped to hug her brother; quietly leaving as the planets hung in the classroom.

------------------------

"So how was your first day of classes?" Sprink asked Anne.

"'Twas a bit strange," she admitted. "None at all like my previous classes, or studying with Alfred."

"With Alfred, you got a better hard science education than me," Mattie commented. "Better in math, anyway. I'm only through basic trig; you've had three and four dimensional trigonometry. You're better in geology, and you've started on binary and quaternary programming. However, he couldn't teach you anything like charms or transfiguration." She sipped her coffee, "You've got a good spacer's education. How useful it is for a witch? Dunno."

"How do you know about it?" Emma asked.

"Two reasons," Mattie said. "I'm her captain, and Cassidy and I set it up with Alfred. I wish I had the chance to spend two months with him as my teacher."

"So how did it work?" Sprink asked. She waved her mug (sloshing her tea), expanding the question, "How did you get from then to here, now?"

"Ah," Anne replied. She chewed briefly, thinking, then said, "We did conspire, in February of 1380, with Headmistress Oldridge and this clever one," she nodded at Mattie, who grinned. "They wouldst transfigure a pig to resemble myself, and then we would stage an argument. In despair, I did throw myself off the girls' tower, whereupon the poor pig dropped and I was caught." She grinned at the others, "I awoke in February of this year, and did learn some of the spacer's trade, floating about in zero gee, repairing equipment, securing cargo and the like."

Looking at Mattie, she added, "I had not a chance to discuss this before, Captain, but the red-skinned wench that did'st deliver thy machinery from 1380 did simply toss it in Alfred's cargo bay. I was the one that did secure them."

"Thank you, then. I wondered how Alfred's remote was able to move them."

"One of my first lessons," Anne said, wiggling the fingers of her left hand. "I did'st crush the fingers moving the generator about. 'Twas most painful until Alfred repaired it. One must secure everything, and account for everything." She shrugged, cutting her meat, "'S'trewth, one must be careful in space, one can die most quickly."

"_Merlin_, I'm jealous!" Emma said. Karen glanced at Mattie, and Emma asked, "What's on with you two?"

"Patience, you'll see," Mattie said. "So you've awoken in February. What then?"

"I did take lessons from Alfred, and examined this 'Internet' with him," she said. Spearing a potato, she asked,"Might I inquire of the preoccupation with naked ladies?" James choked as he took a drink, his sister Julie pounding his back as Anne continued, "Have you naught of your own?"

"It's a guy thing," Julie told her, as her brother flushed beet red. "They like looking at pictures, some can't catch a girl, so they get the next best thing." She smiled at her brother, and patted him on the back. "You took classes, fixed things, and surfed the 'Net. Anything else?"

"I did try my hand at preparing meals," Anne replied. "Thou art correct, the menu needs much improvement. I did attempt to duplicate some of my favorites, but was only able to succeed with very basic foods, such as rice."

"It's a definite priority," Mattie said. "The best results were when we could scan molecular images of existing foods." She motioned with her fork, "When we got the ship, the menu was barely above stale bread and water. It kept you alive, but that was about it. Nothing at all like Hogwart's cooking."

"Food is a definite morale item," Karen said. "I know I'm only a so-so cook, I'd look into who the best are. Not necessarily for the froo-froo style cooking, but simple, everyday meals."

"Stick-to-your-ribs country cooking," Connie said. "Don't forget the specialty menus, like cardio and vegetarian meals." She chewed thoughtfully, then added, "You may want to have some froo-froo dishes, though. It can't hurt."

"Good point," Karen said. "From what I understand, you may want to scan individual portions; then multiply out what's needed." She took a bite, slowly chewing as she thought, "You'll want to build the library... pay a commission per item serving?"

"Only fair," Connie said. "In a way, it's what you're doing in a restaurant, paying for materials, skilled labor, and overhead as well as a profit margin." She took a bite of chicken, "If you have the elves prepare, say, a bowl of potatoes (she raised the serving spoon on the bowl in front of her), and specify this is, oh, thirty servings (it was a big bowl). You can then divide out the cost of that bowl by thirty and apply that against your food budget."

"Then, when I order a serving of potatoes on board ship," Karen said, "Which might cost, oh, thirty pence or a sickle, twenty of those pence would go for materials, five for a commission to Hogwarts, and five to the ship for the energy and other overhead." She sipped her tea, "That would work, but not as well for a roasted chicken, where a good percentage is bones and such. In the kitchen, bones are used for soup, but on board?"

"They're broken down into their component molecules, so the bones and skin are recycled." Mattie said. She sipped her coffee, "I wonder if Alfred could make a portable food scanner..."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, April 3, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Charms class: 09:02  
_**------------------------

"Good morning! Welcome back, Miss Wayne, and you must be Miss Anne! So very pleased to meet you, I am Professor Filius Flitwick, Charms instructor and head of Ravenclaw." He smiled, moving away, "We were discussing Hover charms and other types of levitation charms. Now, if you will turn in your books to page... "

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, April 3, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Muggle Studies: 16:02  
_**------------------------

"This is completely unsatisfactory, Miss Tonks!" Professor Carstairs shrilled. "You have failed to demonstrate why wizarding society is superior to Muggle! I have given you what this paper deserves – a T!"

Sprink looked about to blow, but Mattie put a hand on her arm, and winked at her. "Professor Carstairs?" she asked politely.

"Yes, Miss Wayne? What is it?"

"If I understand you correctly, wizards are superior in every way to muggles, correct?"

The tiny professor preened, "Of course."

"Might I ask when was the last time you spent among muggles? As you are the professor, it must have been fairly recently."

Adelle Carstairs gazed at her warily, then answered, "I spent a week in London in 1875, and haven't seen the need to return, as nothing has changed."

"Ah, well, then you should have no problem with a wager, then."

"I don't gamble with students, it's unprofessional."

"I see. Most wise. However, would you be willing to take a leave of absence? A paid sabbatical, in order to... update your credentials?" Mattie had pulled out her Gringotts money bag, and tapped it with her wand, telling it 'Balance'.

Adelle glanced at Miss Wayne, and the money bag. She knew they were only given to prized Gringotts clients, and the very wealthy. That this girl had one... she licked her lips, especially when Miss Tonks leaned over to see the balance, and whistled. "Such a sabbatical would be expensive," she said, shifting to try to see the balance.

"Continuing education credits, a business expense," Miss Wayne shrugged. "Perhaps, oh, twelve thousand galleons would suffice for three months?" she suggested.

"Three months?"

"Why, yes," Miss Wayne smiled. "For instance, the subject might occupy a furnished London flat in Soho, with, oh, two thousand pounds for living expenses. I happen to know of a flat on Old Compton Road. She would of course need to buy fresh food, but that should prove no problem, there are greengrocers on Berwick Street, and several Tube stations within walking distance."

'_Tube stations_?' Adelle wondered. "What would this subject do during the day?"

"Whatever she wished, as long as she had no contact whatsoever with wizarding society or locations, and left her flat by eight am, not returning before eight pm." She smiled, "As this is a Muggle study, the subject would be prohibited from using any form of magic. She would turn over her wand to Tom at the Cauldron, and would not recover it before the end of the period. If she did perform magic, including wandless magic, or entered into wizarding areas such as the Cauldron, she would be in default of contract, and would be liable for expenses incurred, and would obviously not receive the twelve thousand galleons."

"No... no magic?"

"Of course not, it's muggle studies. Being as wizards are superior in every way to muggles, I would think that any student here, and all the professors, could get by without problems. Of course, for a Muggle Studies professor, it would be a walk in the park." Miss Wayne tented her fingers, "Do you happen to know of such a professor, Professor?"

"How would I know I would receive the gold?"

"I give you my word." The temperature dropped several degrees. "I am amenable to a bonded account; however, I would suggest a professor stop by every so often to see how you're getting on, as a neutral third party. Perhaps... Ms. Croft, if she's willing? Would she be acceptable?"

Miss Wayne had pulled several galleons from her bag, and was idly stacking them. The gold gleamed, as she pulled out more, and Adelle asked, "When?"

"The first of May?" she shrugged. "Possibly sooner?" she mused as she stacked more gold.

"Possibly, ah, April fifteenth, through July fifteenth?" '_There must be three hundred galleons there..._' Adelle thought.

"It might take a week or two to arrange things," Miss Wayne said as she pulled another stack of gold from her bag. "I suggest we each put in a bit toward Ms. Croft's time, you'll do twenty pounds, I'll do four galleons, I believe that's fair." She plucked four gold coins from the stack and examined them. "In the interim, so as not to contaminate the study, I would suggest the Muggle Studies class would be private study time."

"I would still need attendance..." Adelle said weakly, and Miss Wayne nodded.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, April 4, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:20  
_**------------------------

"Lastly, I have a request from Miss Wayne, speaking for Arrowhead Investments," Minerva said. "She inquires after two things, the first if we are interested in licensing the house-elves cooking, and secondly if we might suggest names of the best cooks we know for a similar contract."

"Molly Weasley for the second, definitely," Harry said, and quite a few heads nodded. "What is the deal?"

"As the food on their ship is poor, something I myself attest to," Minerva said, "Their idea is similar to a restaurant. They would scan a pie, for instance, to determine the composition, and every time someone ordered a slice of that pie, they would pay a few sickles to the creator of that pie, in this case Hogwarts. For a roast, on the other hand, they might not pay as much, as less percentage of the entire roast is edible, as opposed to a meat pie, for instance."

Vector looked up, "Wayne's ideas are generally profitable," she mentioned. "What we might do is set up a place in the kitchens, and whenever something new is served, we enter the number of slices in that pie. We might negotiate a fixed commission per category, so vegetables are two sickles, but desserts are six, which would lead to a healthier diet."

"I don't think she'd be doing this for just one ship," Narcissa mused. "They have something larger in mind, which would indeed be profitable. By the by, thank you for mentioning vegetables, Callista, but there are other types of diets; for instance, different religions, or a vegetarian diet, or for heart or other medical conditions. What about other chefs?"

"Fleur Delacour is fairly talented," Harry thought aloud. "You've got the French angle there, including wines, there's always Tom at the Cauldron, and Florean for desserts. His triple split is..."

"It is indeed," Severus said. "I would bring up two questions: what is the maximum size this scanner can use, and didn't I hear Molly was considering a catering business?"

"I believe a small ham, perhaps a large serving bowl," Minerva replied. "Nothing like a large goose would fit, then. Perhaps Molly might be persuaded to develop these special recipes?"

"Some of the special diets can be bland and boring," Narcissa said. "That's one reason we have trouble getting patients to stay with them. If anyone can make them tasty, Molly can. I would suggest she and Fleur come to the Quidditch game on Saturday, as well as Tom and Florean. They can sit down and negotiate contracts with Arrowhead."

"We are in favour, then?" Minerva asked. "Very well, Narcissa, will you and Callista represent Hogwarts in these negotiations? Please be aware, and inform the others, that these are privy talks, at Arrowhead's request. Which account shall we use? General maintenance?"

"That sounds agreeable," Professor Flitwick said. "Severus, was Miss Anne planning on a new wand? I ask because hers is inadequate, she was struggling in yesterday's class."

"I do not know," he replied. "I will suggest she have it checked at Ollivander's." He looked about the table, "Is there anything else?"

"Only that Alastair wishes to observe the game with Miss Wayne," Minerva said. "Best wishes to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw on Saturday."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, April 7, 2001:  
Hogwarts, front lawn: 08:45  
_**------------------------

"There you are," Karen called to Mattie as she came down the forward ramp. "I've a friend who's been looking for you," and with that, she dropped Alastair on her head. "Professor McGonagall dropped him off earlier," she added.

Mattie pushed him back so she could see, "Hello, Alastair, long time."

"A month and six hundred odd years," he replied. "I see you're well enough. How is Miss Yates?"

"Better," she said as they walked. "Alfred's gotten the left ventricle of her heart repaired, and most of the gross damage to her left lung. She's still in a medical coma, though."

"Such things shouldn't be rushed," he agreed. "Might I see this marvelous ship of yours?"

"Sure, depending on how late the Quidditch game runs, we were thinking of flying it to London for some shopping. When's the last time you were there?"

"About three hundred years," Alastair admitted as they joined several people. "I'm most interested in this 'Tube' thing."

"Just don't talk on the Tube," Kelly advised. "They're not used to talking hats."

------------------------


	15. Week Thirty Four, Third Year

------------------------

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
15 – Week Thirty Four, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 8, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms, third year girls: 07:08  
_**------------------------

"G'Morning," Mattie told the girls as she entered. Yawning, she pulled off her outer clothing, staggering toward the loo.

A few minutes later, Alastair heard the shower running. "What was that black outfit Miss Wayne was wearing, and where is Miss Tonks?" he asked.

"It's a skinsuit," Connie said, yawning and adding, "Last night was a full moon, Sprink's wherever she goes to transform."

"Ah, that's right," the Hat said, adding, "Good morning, Miss Bones," as Ami stuck her head out from her bed's hangings.

"Who was that snoring last night?" she asked, stumbling toward the loo.

"'Twas Alastair," Anne said, as Connie tossed her a short denim skirt. She glanced at it, pulling it on, absently playing with her control panel, turning the arms of her suit transparent. There was a knock on the door, Anne calling 'Come'. Karen and Kelly entered, Kelly saying, "I _so_ want one of those suits."

"By my figures, they're a little over 6800 galleons each, and they take a little getting used to," Mattie said, drying her hair. "For me, it's like sitting on one of those hard bicycle seats," she said, gesturing to her waist. "Once you're used to the feeling of the inserts inside you, which takes a while, it even takes care of most of the symptoms of PMS, with the med patch." She tapped the inside of her wrist, adding, "My tits still get bigger, though. Good idea, Anne, a denim skirt sounds right." She proceeded to dig into her trunk, popping her head out as a chime sounded from her bag.

Digging out a small pin, she fastened it to her suit, answering, "Yes, Alfred?"

"I am sorry to disturb you so early, Captain, but I thought you should know that two groups of ruffians tried to kidnap me last night."

"You're all right?"

He chuckled, "Of course. I merely set a trap, as we discussed, and they walked into it. However, the problem remains what to do with them. I am loath to kill them, as I used non-lethal force to capture them."

"Thank you, Alfred. Please keep them secured; I'll see what to do with them. I think I'll call, err, 'Aunt Sarah', to see if there's a spare dungeon available. Who are they?"

"Two groups, the first being CPA10, French air commando. The second is an unofficial American paramilitary group." He added, "They are stripped of their clothing and equipment, bound in cargo nets, and are currently in the cargo hold, which I have in zero gee and flooded with anesthetic gas."

"They're not going anywhere, then," Mattie chuckled. "Let me make some calls, I'll get back to you." She tapped her comm to disconnect.

"Had to happen," Karen commented. "Alfred's too juicy a target. Do we just make them disappear? We've got dungeons we're not using here."

"That... has possibilities," Mattie admitted as she paced. "The SAS is used to strange things, didn't they do police duty in Diagon alley last year?"

"The muggles are used to them," Kelly added. "They could operate openly, nobody'd say anything."

"Then if you'll excuse me, I'll go see the Headmistress. Alastair, would you like to stay or join me?"

"I do believe I'll join you, Miss Wayne. Interesting things seem to happen around you."

------------------------

Minerva put down her cell phone, and looked at Mattie across the table in the Staff Room. "Thank you for informing us, Miss Wayne. 'Aunt Sarah' thanks you for your call, and asks what phrase they should use with Alfred to prove their bona-fides."

"Alfred, you heard that?"

"I did indeed. Your choice, Captain."

"Um. How about, 'Top of the morning, Lord Alfred. It's a walk in the park,' for a recognition phrase?" Minerva smiled, turning back to her phone as Alfred said, "Excellent choice. Will I see you?"

"I don't know. I'll let you know."

Minerva closed her phone, "The lads from the twenty-second SAS regiment will meet you at Charing Cross station, Miss Wayne, then secure the prisoners and drive them here. Your recognition will be the reverse of the above phrase; you will counter-sign with the original." She gazed over her glasses at the girl, "You are only there to co-ordinate with Alfred, and you will not approach the prisoners. Is that understood?"

"I will endeavor to make certain she does nothing foolish, Miss McGonagall," Alfred said. "Will the Bundy ladies be accompanying Miss Wayne?"

"They may, if they observe the same strictures, Alfred."

------------------------

The four vans approached the hangars at the small airpark southeast of London. They stopped, parking a few hundred meters away, Mattie calling Alfred to let him know.

"Very good, I am cycling the air in the cargo hold. Please let me know when you are ready, I shall lower the cargo hatch and restore normal gravity. Our guests continue to sleep deeply."

Mattie looked at the CO, who nodded. "Ready when you are."

"I am opening the cargo hatch. You may open the hangar doors to help ventilate if you wish. Do not enter the cargo bay without protective gear for a few more moments."

The hanger doors slid aside, the SAS commander whistling, "That's a starship?"

"You were expecting the _Enterprise_, perchance?" Alfred asked. "Your troops may come aboard; the captured equipment is in a cargo net in the back. I expect you to return my nets, by the way. Miss Wayne, you and the Bundy ladies might come ahead, the guests remain asleep."

------------------------

The observer watched, lowering his camera as the four vans pulled away, whispering, "Merde! I do not want to inform Paris of this."

"No problem, mein herr," a voice said, followed by darkness.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 8, 2001:  
London, The Stroat Pub: 12:41  
_**------------------------

Nigel entered the busy pub, looking for his contact. Nodding slightly, he stopped while the barman pulled a pint. While he waited, he overheard two blokes talking.

"O's the bird, mate?"

"The redhead in the short skirt? 'At's Eddi, th' owner."

"She don' look like no Eddie, mate. An Eddi, maybe."

"Don' let the skirt an' tits fool y', mate. 'Er real name's 'Edelbert', some legal thing. Never, ever call 'er that, she's got a right nasty hook, she does."

The barman passed his pint, he turned, cocking an eyebrow, he silently asked a question.

"Call me Dimitri," the fellow said in an Oxford accent. "Zaslon group of OZNAZ. We bumped into Herr 'Otto' from Kommando Spezialkräfte at an airpark in southeast London."

"Berlin and Moscow have the same opinion, it seems," 'Otto' said. "While we would both love to have possession of the contents of the hangar in question, for now, we offer our co-operation."

"As such, we offer presents," 'Dimitri' said. "The observers for the two groups your SAS chaps collected this morning. This project is of enormous potential benefit to everyone, as long as data is equally shared."

"I understand that is the intention of Her Majesty," Nigel said. "I will of course pass on your information, and your good intentions, to my contact for this project." He sipped from his pint, "I am certain we can work together." He extracted a pair of business cards, "Please give my office a call when we might collect the guests."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 8, 2001:  
London, The Strand, Bundy home: 15:10  
_**------------------------

"That was interesting," Kelly said, asking, "Anne?"

"A bit of culture shock, I believe," Alastair said from atop Mattie's head. "Her London is quite different from this, or even my last visit in 1740. How far is your home?"

"Not far, a quarter mile or so," Karen said.

------------------------

"This is it, this is home," Kelly said with pride, hands on Kent's shoulders.

"What hath happened to it?" Anne whispered. "It 'twas a small farm, to be sure, but it was larger than this." She pointed shakily, "There was a barn there, our land ran to the riverbank, and now?"

"The Polish Embassy," Kelly said, looking at her siblings. "Why don't we come inside?"

------------------------

"This, this scullery at least I recognize, but the carriage house, the paddock? Gone..."

"We have needed to sell off land over the years, to pay taxes, and debts," Adam Bundy said, clasping his new daughter's hands around her teacup. "We have kept the main house, and as you can see, a modern city does not require horses."

"You have at least kept the family catacombs?" Anne asked sharply.

Adam nodded, "We don't know how to access them, though. The secret died with a great-aunt." Anne snorted, took another sip of tea, then stood, "I shall show you, then. 'Tis often enow I went below to bury family." Walking down stairs and along a corridor, she came to a section of stone wall, paused; placing her hand on one. The corridor rearranged itself, stone stairs leading down into the blackness. Taking a torch from a sconce which flared into life, she asked, "Art thou coming?"

------------------------

"'Twas not easy levitating coffins down here," Anne commented as she paused to read an inscription listing kin buried in the chamber, then moving on, deeper underground.

------------------------

"'Tis kind of them to reserve a space for me," she commented in the flickering torchlight. She held it closer to the ancient plaque, which read 'Anne Bundy, 15 April 1365 – '. "In any case, this is the chamber we seek," she said, placing her hand on the oak door. With a groan, iron that had not moved in centuries shifted, the door swinging outward as torches sprang to life in the small chamber.

"Greetings," one ghost said. "I thank you for bringing our daughter home to us. You would be her current kin?"

"Adam Bundy, my wife Elizabeth, son Kent and our two daughters Karen and Kelly, and a friend of Anne's, Miss Wayne," he said, eyeing the dozen specters that filled the small chamber.

"Thank you for reserving a space for me, Father," Anne said, patting the empty niche. "How are you getting on?"

"Reasonably well for being dead," Robert Bundy admitted. "Headmistress Oldridge visited in May," adding, "Be careful with your trunk, there. There is one of the new 'Pensieve' things in there; it contains her memories of the first of April. She was most touched by your naming a peak on the moon after her, and shared her memories of those ... she called them 'pictures' I believe, with us. Your current Headmistress shared them with her."

Anne's mother shook her spectral head, "We are somewhat jealous, dear, but we have watched this city change over the centuries. We have included privy letters to you, as has Headmistress Oldridge, in your trunk. We do love you so... now, sit, and tell us all you have seen and done!"

Adam cleared his throat, "We'll leave you be, then Anne. Come upstairs when you're ready." Robert floated over to him, "Please look after my little girl."

------------------------  
**_Monday, April 9, 2001:  
Washington, DC, The White House, Cabinet room: 08:07  
_**------------------------

Mercy nodded, touching her earpiece, then smoothed her tiny skirt and leaned over to whisper in the President's ear. "Sir, Team S has not checked in. Base believes they are taken."

President Luthor nodded, "You know what to do, Mercy."

"Yes, sir," the statuesque blonde acknowledged. She stepped back, working her way out of the room as her sister Hope took her place. Team S had only a few minutes to live.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, April 10, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Charms classroom: 10:55  
_**------------------------

The class broke up, working on the new charm. Arthur sat across from Anne and Mattie, suggesting, "Add a little counterclockwise twist at the end of your swish," He slowly demonstrated, adding, "It gives you a bit better control."

"It does, thank you," Anne replied, eyebrow raised. Sprink sat next to him, commenting, "He's a bloody genius when it comes to Charms. Even if he is a Huffie..." she grinned, ruffling his hair as he tried to grab her wrist.

"How are things going?" Professor Flitwick asked. "Let me see you perform the charm, Miss Wayne, Miss Bundy." He nodded at Mattie's, then said, "Emphasis on the second syllable, Miss Bundy; like this: 'si-LEN-see-oh'. Please cast it on Miss Tonks." He nodded in approval, "Mr. Morton, a moment?"

Arthur followed the tiny professor to his desk, where he cast a privacy spell. "Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Morton, this conversation never occurred," Arthur raised his eyebrow, and nodded. "You are aware of the international situation regarding Miss Wayne's starship?"

"To some extent, sir. I've heard rumors, and I saw the SAS arrive on Sunday with some bodies. They went down to the dungeons."

"Hmm. Let me just say that the staff is very concerned. Various people are attempting to steal the ship, and they are not nice blokes." He thought for a minute, asking, "Your wand, Mr. Morton, and pay close attention. I'm going to remove the Ministry spells from your wand, which will incidentally increase its power quite a bit." He gazed directly at Arthur, "You will wish to be careful as to whom you share this information with. Perhaps only blood relatives and very close friends, eh?"

"Is my family at risk, sir?"

"I do not know, Mr. Morton. Best to be prepared, eh? Still, this will give you an adult's wand without your having to purchase new. I would also _strongly_ suggest you attend the DA meetings." The professor looked up at him, "Strongly suggest, Mr. Morton. Now then, your wand, please?"

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, April 11, 2001:  
Paris, President's mansion: 08:07  
_**------------------------

"M'suer Le President, the British Ambassador to see you."

The president rose as the lime... Brit came across the carpet. "You wished to see me about something discreet?"

"Yes, Mr. President," the ambassador said. He pulled out a small manila envelope, "I believe this belongs to you."

The president slid out a beret. "I do not understand," he protested weakly.

"I think you do," the ambassador replied. "Research contracts with French companies and universities are terminated, with cause. All materials, and I do mean all, and any research results are to be returned within twenty four hours." He sat back, twisting the knife, "They'll be assigned to German and Russian firms and universities instead. For what it's worth, there were no fatalities." He stood, "Good day, Mr. President."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, April 11, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:13  
_**------------------------

"Well, now, if there isn't... Adelle?"

"Sorry to interrupt, Miss McGonagall, but I wished to inform you that I am taking a leave of absence," the tiny Muggle Studies professor said haughtily. "I have the opportunity for a sabbatical, a _paid_ sabbatical, and I must seize the moment. I shall be gone through end of term."

She had already turned to go when Minerva asked, "Your classes?"

"They are simple enough to teach, I have no doubt that any of the..." scorn dripped from her voice, "... muggle-born instructors like Miss Croft or Mr. Potter might, with some effort, become proficient in their instruction. Good day." With that, she left, Lara Croft and Harry Potter looking at each other.

"I'm free Tuesday afternoons," Lara said, "If you'll help out, Harry, perhaps we can make something of that class."

"Perhaps she won't return," Callista said, and there was a muffled cheer from the staff.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, April 12, 2001:  
Hogwarts, DADA class: 13:00  
_**------------------------

The bell rang, and Professor Harry appeared, tossing his robes over a chair and standing behind a lectern, "Good afternoon, everyone. Let me get the roll out of the way... Anyone not here, raise their hand." People groaned at the tired joke as the Cortez twins immediately did so. "Yes, Roshawn and Shaundra?"

"What's this we hear about Miss Carstairs?"

"Pro... well, she's taking a sabbatical to 'Update herself on muggle culture.' He said. "I'll be helping out Professor Croft until the end of term; hopefully we can make something of that class." Various noises and comments about the three of them were heard. "Well, since Adelle wrote the textbook in 1875, I think the curriculum might need just a bit of revision. I'm planning to sit down with Lara this weekend to do so, if you've ideas for the class, send me an email." He closed the folder he had taken roll from, "I was going to go over curses in any event, Miss Hansen, would you tell us about the trip you and Professor Lupin took last Saturday?"

Felicia swallowed, "We... we went to the moon last Saturday, for the full moon. We didn't take potion before; we wanted to see what direct contact would do."

"And..."

"We transformed, but aside from the cold, we both felt fine," she said as she shivered. "It was in a cave, about thirty below zero, I expected the moon to be colder than that."

"You were underground, during daytime," Mattie said. "On Farside, on the surface, it gets down to almost three hundred degrees below zero. The only thing we did was pressurize the cave; we wanted to keep variables to a minimum."

"I wish you had taken me," Sprink complained.

"Your mum didn't get back with her permission in time," Mattie replied. "Professor Lupin's an adult, and Professor McGonagall gave permission for Felicia. She watched from the cargo bay." She ruffled Sprink's head, "Let's see what happens next month with these two. If it works, you'll go, I promise."

"Is it a cure for lycanthropy?" Professor Harry asked rhetorically. "We don't know, but let's go into some other long term curses, shall we? The first one I'd like to discuss is from ancient Egypt, called 'The Mummy's Curse'. This one..."

------------------------

"Mr. Morton, a moment, please?"

Arthur followed Professor Potter to a corner, where he cast a privacy spell. "This conversation never happened, Mr. Morton." He nodded, "I understand Professor Flitwick was able to help on a wand problem? Good. I also understand you saw our SAS blokes on Sunday?"

"Yes, sir. What's going on?"

"We are concerned about the international situation, Mr. Morton. Are you familiar with the Cold War?" Arthur nodded again, "What we believe may be developing is colder than that, Mr. Morton, and even more in the shadows. However, the potential benefits to the whole of humanity are immense." He looked Arthur in the eye, "On the order of the discovery of fire and the wheel, Mr. Morton. Some want to keep it all for themselves; others to share the wealth. We believe a rising tide lifts all boats, or ships, Mr. Morton. As do our allies, the Germans, the Russians, the Canadians and Mexicans."

Arthur considered this information, "I notice you didn't mention the Americans."

"Or the French, Mr. Morton. Officially, at least. Unfortunately, that places some of our students at greater risk, especially given their homes and who they know at school. As such, I'll be emphasizing defensive spells over the remaining weeks of term. However, you might wish to pass on some of the more... creative spells I understand you've mastered. Including certain repair spells. Have you any questions?"

"I don't believe so, sir. Thank you for this new information."

"Thank you for coming to the DA Tuesday night, Mr. Morton," Professor Potter said as he banished the privacy spell.

------------------------  
**_Friday, April 13, 2001:  
London, Charing Cross station, DMLE courtroom: 08:12  
_**------------------------

"Malfoy, Lucille, Case number 2001 APR1-1203a. Charges are Use of an Unforgivable, Attempted Murder, Manslaughter by Spell," the bailiff read as the defendant was positioned, then secured with a leg-locker curse. "How do you plead?"

"My client pleads not guilty to all charges, and I wish to file a motion to recuse myself," Roger Webster said from beside his shackled client. "I am a witness to these charges, and thus cannot represent her."

"You will turn over case notes and any discovery to the other solicitor, I presume?" Madame Bones said. "Does the Crown have an objection?"

"The Crown has no objection, Milady," the solicitor said, standing briefly.

"Before I address your motion, I will address your client," Madame Bones said, shooting a quick silencing spell at Lucille, who glowered.

"Miss Malfoy, and I use the term advisedly, this is one of those rare times where the law and common sense coincide," she said, steepling her hands. "We know, and can prove, Lucius Malfoy was bribing former Minister Fudge. However, since the late, unlamented Minister went along with the supposed 'death' of Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, those charges cannot be tried. One must wonder at the seeming coincidence of Lucille Malfoy's appearance at the same time as Lucius' death, with no previous background for her. One must wonder who is actually occupying Lucius' grave – might it be one of his former Death Eater colleagues?"

She waved away an unspoken objection, "I am aware that Minister Fudge stirred the cauldron by not acknowledging Lucius' Death Eater activities, despite multiple witnesses recognizing him. Surviving witnesses, I might clarify, as Lucius was adept with the Unforgivables. The hair and nose is distinctive, traits you also share, Miss Lucille. However, that is water past the troll; Minister Fudge has provided you with a legal identification, which is the basis of the charges against Lucille."

Madame Bones picked up a printout, "You are charged with the AK which you aimed at, as best we can tell, Miss Martha Wayne, with intent to kill; thus the Attempted Murder charge. However, you actually hit Miss Cassidy Yates, killing her accidentally, which brings the Manslaughter charge." There was a mutter from the watching spectators.

"As such, the Court does not feel comfortable with granting you release under bond. You are therefore remanded to the custody of DMLE until trial, which is..." she flipped through her calendar, "Friday, the eighth of June 2001. Counselor, your motion for a recusal is granted with the stipulation that you continue to represent Miss Malfoy until other counsel is appointed." He nodded, the Court continued, "Miss Malfoy, I have placed a silencing spell on you for your protection, I would suggest you not speak with anyone but your solicitor. I have also ordered DMLE to keep you in solitary, as I doubt you would survive long in the general population." The gavel banged, "So ordered, next case."

The leg-locker curse was released, as the next defendant was brought forward.

------------------------


	16. Week Thirty Five, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
16 – Week Thirty Five, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 15, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ravenclaw table: 08:25  
_**------------------------

"You're looking awfully pleased with yourself this morning," Arthur said as Mattie poured another cup of coffee. He liked the smell, but thought anyone who actually drank it had to be crazy.

She yawned, "Professor Croft and I just walked Professor Carstairs to the flat from the Cauldron for her 'sabbatical'," she said. "Personally, I don't think she'll last six hours."

"Huh?" he grunted as he sat down.

Sprink took over, explaining the details with considerable relish, Arthur frowned. While he felt that Carstairs had no business calling herself a teacher, he was concerned. "Who have you got watching her?" he asked.

Mattie cocked an eyebrow, "Professor Croft will check on her, if she makes it that long."

"I mean who's watching her now?" he asked.

"Nobody," she shrugged.

"That's harsh," he said, pouring a glass of milk. He sipped, "I know London isn't Gotham, but without a wand, how is she supposed to defend herself?"

"The same way muggles do," Mattie answered.

"Really, mate, the area she's in isn't a crime area," Charlie said. "Soho's got some odd blokes, that's part of what makes this fun. Just some of the people she'll see on the streets ought to rattle her, but worst case, she goes back to the Cauldron. If she doesn't want to go walkabout, all she needs is to spend all day at some place like the British Library. Unless she eats steak every night, she should wind up with a few quid in her pocket, too."

"So she's defenseless, clueless, in a hostile environment and an easy target. That's roughly the equivalent of dropping my sister Teela in Crime Alley with one arm tied behind her back with a clear plastic bag full of money tied around her neck while she has amnesia."

"No way, mate!" Sprink accused. "We're not trying to get 'er killed, just to open her mind a bit. You've never had a class of hers! It makes me shamed to call myself a witch. B'sides, you and Mattie are muggle born, I figured you be glad at the chance."

Arthur raised his hands, "Nothing wrong with giving her an attitude adjustment. You lot have given me a few of those. But if Carstairs doesn't survive the experience, how can she learn anything?"

"You worry too much," Mattie said. "Would I have proposed this if I thought there was any sort of risk? All she needs to do is spend the next three months in the corner pub!"

"Which is in a gay neighborhood," Charlie said with a smirk.

One of the twins picked up a carrot and did a Chaplinesqe "Not that there's anything _wrong_ with that..."

------------------------  
**_Monday, April 16, 2001:  
Paris, President's mansion: 08:57  
_**------------------------

"This plan to seize the starship will work?" the President asked. "You do not know what went wrong before. Have you even found the previous team?"

"A transmitter washed up in Calais. We think they are being held in a fortress in Dover," the smartly dressed general said. "That is where three are broadcasting from."

"Could they have found the transmitters?"

"Non, my President. They are very low power; indeed, they are powered by the body itself." The general smirked, "A triumph of French engineering. However, we can only account for four, including the one that washed up. He may have been eaten by a shark."

"The English bastard said there were no fatalities."

"He may have been telling the truth," the general said dismissively. "The other two could have died of their injuries after capture. In any event, we believe this crew will succeed. Two of them are top rated pilots; they can fly anything from a helicopter to an airliner. The other four will provide security, while a sniper team provides cover and takes out the guard."

"The guard – I do not like the idea of simply killing the old guard."

"This is a war, a war for the very future of La Belle France. One old man against that?" The general waved this off. "We can always offer a few francs compensation after our victory."

"Very well, operation Victory Flight is approved."

------------------------  
**_Monday, April 16, 2001:  
Hogwarts, History class: 09:19  
_**------------------------

"...and Miss Tonks," Professor Lupin said, finishing the roll. "Now then, we're going to deviate a bit from the syllabus, recent events have necessitated a change. We're going to be discussing a style of warfare called a 'cold war'. Can anyone fill us in? Mr. Adams?"

"Sir, the Cold War was the conflict between the Yanks and the Russians after the Second World War."

"Good, but incomplete, Mr. Adams. The generic definition of a cold war is a state of conflict that is not military action but instead is economic or political. It can also include spying or surrogate nations. It might also involve military aid or guerrila war." He waited while notes were taken. "There are several ongoing cold wars at the moment, can anyone name one?"

One of the twins raised her hand, "Greece and Turkey?"

Professor Lupin nodded, "Another?"

"Mainland China and Taiwan?" the other twin asked.

Arthur asked, "The Koreans?"

"Another good example," Professor Lupin nodded, looking up as several students entered. One said, "Professor Dumbledore couldn't make it today, a scheduling conflict with a case, so Professor McGonagall said we should come here."

"Excellent. Please, find a seat, we're discussing cold wars." As they were doing so, Miss Bundy asked, "What 'tis a 'cold war', sir?"

"Essentially, a war fought without armies, but with spies, and propoganda, and by proxy," he replied. "They have flashed 'hot' on occasion, the conflict at the end of the 19th century flashed into the First World War, the Korean War in the 1950's was a hot flash of the US and Soviet cold war."

He waved his wand, duplicating several more handouts, "Please pass these back. What we fear now as a result of Miss Wayne's returning with not only a starship, but with detailed manuals, is another cold war between those that want to steal the ship for themselves, like the French and the new American President Luthor do, and the Queen's intention of lifting every boat equally. Therefore, we find ourselves in the very strange situation of being opposed to our long time ally, the Americans."

Miss Wayne raised her hand, "I would like to point out, sir, that not all Americans agree with President Luthor." She shuddered, "My family was, and are, not his supporters, despite what he promised, and then what he threatened us with. My mother walked out of a charity event when it turned out to be a fundraiser for him, she even demanded her check back, on TV." She grinned, "I have _got_ to watch that video, Mom called Luthor a greedy, manipulative snake. The whole thing was horribly embarrassing for the Luthor people, and for Mrs. VanSykes. She still hasn't regained her social rank. In any event, we decided to go with people who we know and trust." She added, "With the close election, I would think you would be more opposed to the Luthor _Administration_, not necessarily the American people."

"A very good point," Professor Lupin agreed. "Having met your mum, I would like to see this video also. In any event, the French government having sent troops, a commando unit, to seize the ship, the Queen decided on an embargo of all starship-related technology and information. The American government, on the other hand, was a bit more covert about it."

"Covert?" Anne asked.

"Sneaky," Charlie said, and Professor Lupin continued. "This gave them deniability, they could always say 'It wasn't us!', and indeed, from what I understand, they had no official contact."

"So how do we know they were ordered in by this Luthor bloke?" Charlie asked.

"Their contact, a 'Ms. Jones', has been positively identified as one of President Luthor's twin 'special assistants'."

"Luthor is the type that doesn't like his underlings striking out on her own," Mattie said, "If this was either Hope or Mercy, they were acting as his cutouts."

Harry Spencer, one of Remus' regular students, added, "The fact that they had no official ID and no uniforms means they're throwaway troops. Standard procedure for this Luthor bloke." He grinned at Mattie, "You're not the only one talking to your family."

"I'm sure we all are," she replied. "My regards to your Aunt Sarah. Great game you played, by the way."

Professor Lupin rapped his knuckles on the table, "Quidditch after class, please. What does all this mean for you?" He sighed, "For the Yanks, and unfortunately for those of us close to them, it means an increased risk to your personal security, and that of your families." The twins glanced at each other, and at Arthur. "As my friend Alastair Moody is fond of saying, '_Constant vigilance_!' and he may be a paranoid old bugger who hexes his dustbins, but he's alive to do it."

He looked around the class, "Let's go over when its legal for you lot to use magic in public. Very simply, it's in protection of yourself or someone else from lethal attack. It is not to be used on the Tube when someone harasses your girlfriend or boyfriend. That's when you can use the martial arts Leftenant Martin or Miss Wayne's been teaching." He smiled, adding, "Thank you for resuming them, by the by," and she nodded.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, April 17, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Muggle Studies class: 13:01  
_**------------------------

Professor Harry closed the door, grinning at Professor Croft, who was standing at the lectern, taking roll. She finished, returning his grin, and said, "Right-o! New class policy, together we're going to turn you lot into convincing muggles. Can anyone tell me why?"

"They outnumber us?" Sprink asked.

Harry nodded, "Good reason. Anyone know what the last official wizarding census was?"

Abby Michaels said, "Last I heard, about fifty thousand in the UK, including squibs."

Lara leaned over the lectern, her preferred style of lecture. "Close enough. We're a fairly small lot, the last muggle census I saw had them at sixy million or so. Doing the math, that's roughly a thousand to one. Whilst I have heard of a few wizards practicing openly, they're dismissed as stage performers. However, we need to do a better job of hiding in plain sight."

"That's why we asked you lot to come to class dressed, and equipped, as muggles," Harry said. "That is the first thing that draws the eye, your style of clothing. The Japanese have an expression, 'The nail that sticks up is hammered flat.' Don't be that nail."

"Observe our style of dress," Lara said, moving from behind the lectern. "We're both dressed for a shopping trip to London. The first thing you'll notice is we are not wearing robes. What's another?"

"Professor Harry's not wearing boots," Abby said.

"Correct, I'm wearing trainers," he said, "Lara, on the other hand, is wearing boots, but they're a muggle style. What else about her?"

"Long jumper, and tights," Sprink said. "Looks nice."

"Thank you, Miss Tonks. I see you've had some experience with muggles yourself," Lara said. Raising her voice, "We'll inspect you, then we're going shopping in London. Your assignment is to buy something muggle, under twenty pounds in cost, and come back. You'll need to write a report of at least two pages telling us why you bought that item, and your experiences. Ladies over there, gentlemen over there with Mr. Potter."

------------------------

After a suitable amount of transfiguration, Professor Harry passed out a folded bill to each. "This is a muggle twenty pound note, worth about four galleons," he told the class. "The bit of steel wire is called a clip, or paper clip. On the inside is a business card for the Weasley's shop on Knockturn. That's your emergency portkey, hold it, think 'Weasley', and it will pop you there. Try very hard not to use your wand, you'll be in groups with at least one person with muggle experience. Miss Tonks, Miss Wayne, will you each take a group?"

They nodded, "Good," Professor Harry said. "Try to use the Tube, you've got blue Oyster one-day cards for the fares and a map. Don't lose them, please. Charing Cross station is down the street from the Cauldron, there are plenty of small shops. Return to the Cauldron by five PM, you might see that on a clock as 17:00. Floo back to the entrance hall. Any questions?" As the started to leave, Professor Harry asked, "Miss Wayne?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Please limit yourself to twenty quid, hmm?"

------------------------

"Oh, my!" Anne said. "'Tis a castle?"

"A music castle, my friend," Mattie said, grinning as she ushered Anne and the others into Virgin Megastore in Piccadilly. "We'll meet back here at 4 o'clock, all right?"

------------------------

"Welcome to Virgin. Do you have any preferences for music?" the clerk asked Anne.

She blinked, "I have always liked madrigals played on the lute, and thought bards singing Francesco Landini and Jacopo da Bologna were very nice."

The girl blinked, "Madrigals? Oi, 'aven't heard of that one. I think we've got lutes in with the strings."

"I would like to see one, please. I have not played for... quite a while."

------------------------

"Sorry, luv, no lutes, they're custom made. What about an acoustic guitar?"

"Can she try one?" Mattie asked, holding a Jennifer Lopez CD. The fellow shrugged, motioned Anne to a stool, and returned holding a slightly battered guitar.

"Parts of the madrigal reflect the emotions of the music," Anne said, "A quick flow of notes for happy," she demonstrated, "Dropping a chord for sad." She played a few more notes, then returned the guitar, thanking the clerk.

------------------------

"What did you get?" Mattie asked the others as they rode the tube to Charing Cross.

"We clubbed up, five CD's for thirty pounds!" Abby said happily. "What do we play them on?"

"The computers in your common rooms will play them, but you'll need headphones," she replied. "Other people might not like your taste in music, and can you imagine what Madame Pince might do?" The other Hogwarts students shuddered. The car slowed and stopped, she added, "Here's our stop, Charing Cross. Don't forget to swipe your Oyster Cards."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, April 18, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Transfiguration class: 13:01  
_**------------------------

"Good afternoon, everyone," Professor Chang said as she walked behind the lectern. "Did anyone email me their homework since this morning?" A couple hands raised; she added, "Those who haven't, please pass it up. Now, who had trouble in turning their button into a needle?"

Tomas raised his hand, Professor Chang smiled, "Let's give it a go, shall we, Mr. Ramirez?

------------------------

"I do not understand why this is so difficult," Tomas complained, and Julie patted his back. "I'm having trouble too, and I had all summer to practice," she admitted. "I'm just lucky with that one."

"Even your sister has problems with Transfig," Ami Bones said sympathetically as she joined them. Looking carefully around, she whispered, "I'm having trouble with Potions, I guess I'm not a very good Slytherin."

"Who's a good Slytherin?" Connie Koslowski asked as they waited in the Entrance Hall. "I'm just dreading the Summer Potion; we barely got through this year's. I don't know what I'm going to do this year."

"What's the 'Summer Potion'?" Julie asked.

"You lot don't have to do it, just we Slythies," Connie said. "Professor Snape has us research and brew a more advanced potion from second-year on, the house nickname is the 'Summer Potion'. Original, I know," she shrugged. "Any of you taller blokes know what the hold-up is? We're hungry, here!"

A towering Ravenclaw said, "The doors aren't open yet, don't know why."

------------------------  
**_Friday, April 20, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Transfiguration class: 14:47  
_**------------------------

Mattie blew at her hair in frustration. "Why are we transfiguring a perfectly good duck into a soup tureen," she muttered. Her duck simply looked at her; the best she'd been able to do is render it mute. "Quack, damn you," she told the irritated duck, who reached out and tried to bite her nose.

"Problems, Miss Wayne?" Professor Chang asked.

"I think I have a defective duck," she admitted. "Can I go hide under my bedcovers now?"

"Now, now," Professor Chang said, waving her wand and resetting the duck. "Give it another go, please."

"Problems with the all-powerful Mattie Wayne?" Sprink teased.

"You've been writing fiction again, haven't you?" Mattie said. "I hate not being able to do this, it makes me feel stupid."

"At least you've not killed your duck," Charlie admitted. "I hope the elves can make something out of it." Sprink leaned over, "Soup."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, April 21, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ravenclaw table: 08:17  
_**------------------------

"G'morning, everyone," Mattie said as she sat, pouring her first cup of coffee. She sighed, then looked at Amy, "What do you have for me this morning?"

"For Ballycastle, several memos and a copy of the March gate transfers to Hogwarts," she replied. "For Arrowhead, your Aunt Lois forwarded several articles and press releases, as well as a copy of yesterday's Financial Times. Our stock is up again, both common and preferred."

Mattie took another sip of coffee, "Amy, you are a gem beyond price. Are you getting enough sleep? This is your OWL year, isn't it?"

Amy yawned, "Yes, it is. At least we have most of the back business beaten down." She yawned again, adding, "That almost rhymed."

"You're a life saver, let me help you out a bit," Mattie said as she booted her laptop. While she waited, she dialed her cell phone, "Good morning, Mr. Griplink, it's Miss Wayne. I'd like to do a stock issuance please, one thousand shares of class A Arrowhead preferred to Miss Amy Johnson." She jotted down some numbers; adding, "Please give her a fifty percent raise, also. Right. Right, yes, thank you. Bye."

She flipped her phone closed, then asked the watching students, "Okay, this is business class 101. What did I just do?"

"You gave her a very nice pay rise," Karen said from Slytherin, turning about. "I don't know about the stock, though."

"There are two general classes of stock, common and preferred," Mattie explained. "Common is what just about everyone buys, Arrowhead's common closed yesterday at..." she opened the Times, finding the listing, "... fifteen pounds, eight pence. If that was common stock, I just gave her £15,080. However, this was preferred stock, in our class A issuance, our first. Class A preferred carries a share price of... £70.6 per share, which makes this worth seventy thousand pounds, if she was foolish enough to sell it. Welcome to the Board by the way, Amy."

Amy blinked, "The Board of Directors? Of Arrowhead? But I'm your..."

Mattie waved that off. "We'll think up some fancy title later. What happens to stocks when a company grows?"

"The price goes up, and the board may split the stock," Karen said. "In which case, the thousand shares becomes two thousand."

"Unless they want to raise the stock price, in which case it's a reverse split, and becomes five hundred. Assuming the price of the stock on that day is £100, each of those two thousand shares is now £50, but there's more of them. Now, if the share price went up ten pounds that day, how much has she gained?"

"Twenty thousand pounds," Arthur said. "You're talking some very big numbers, Mattie. How big?"

Mattie took a sip of coffee, then slowly said, "Big enough to finance, or to start to finance, this great leap off the planet. I've sunk my entire inheritance, and my personal fortune, and the European holdings of Wayne into Arrowhead." She nodded at Arthur's laptop, "What's the current market capitalization of Arrowhead? That should answer your question."

"It's currently..." Amy started, but Mattie raised her hand. "Let him find out." She turned to the others, "There are several reasons why I'm doing this, besides making boatloads of money. Can any of you tell me?"

"Survival," Charlie said. "There are all sorts of lunatics running about, what if one fired a nuke?"

"What's a nuke?" Anne asked, one of the twins leaned over to answer her as Amanda listened in. The other twin said, "It's not only nukes. There's biological and chemical weapons, too." She regarded Mattie, "Does this relate to the Clench virus attack on Gotham?"

"Partially," Mattie acknowledged, explaining, "Several years ago, a terrorist let off a plague weapon on my hometown, killing thousands. Thousands more died when an earthquake hit shortly afterward." She took a contemplative sip of coffee, "The government declared Gotham 'No Man's Land', and if you think it's exciting now, it was a thousand times worse then." Her eyes were hooded, "One reason for this is a self-sustaining genetic lifeboat for the human race. You forgot earth-crossing asteroids, Shaundra. One of those killed the dinosaurs, remember?"

She shook herself, "What's another reason?"

"It was _worse_?" Shaundra muttered, as Arthur stiffened in shock. "Ah, he's found out," Mattie said. "Tell us, Arthur." He swallowed hard, "Market cap is seven hundred and eighty two million pounds... That doesn't count research contracts or..." he said. "You're worth three quarters of a billion..."

"Not me, Arrowhead," Mattie said. "Including Ballycastle, by the way; another reason you lot weren't around to hear. Cassidy was born on Mars station; she slipped and let that out. In order for there to BE a Mars Station, there has to be the infrastructure to support it in the 24th century, which means we have to develop it NOW. Anne, you should know the third reason, we discussed it over breakfast."

"The sharpened stick," Anne replied, and Mattie nodded, "This system is repeatedly invaded, but we don't have the means to defend ourselves, and so we must develop those means, as quickly as we can."

"What about the sharpened stick?" Karen asked.

"The arrow evolved from a sharpened stick, to a straightened stick, through fletching and a metal point," Anne explained. "We must jump from the stick to the finished arrow, which we have in hand, even though we do not know the steps between. This is why the great amount of information Alfred has brought back, and the best way to develop that arrowhead is for us to... to..."

"...reverse engineer it," Mattie supplied. "Hopefully we can come up with the science behind it ourselves. That's why Arrowhead was formed, R&D with the universities like MIT, ETH Zurich and the various companies like PEMEX and Mercedes have expertise we don't. That's why the Crown and governments like Germany and Russia are co-operating."

"And some want it all for themselves, like the French," Karen said. "That's why Lady Sarah said we haven't time." She sat back, leaning against the Slytherin table and regarded Mattie. "You're dragging us into the future."

"Kicking and screaming all the way, which sucks," Mattie agreed. "Know what you want to study in University?"

"Business, but I'm not certain as to which part."

Mattie regarded her, "If you're interested in working with me, I could use your talents," and Karen nodded. "Excellent. Arrowhead is going to expand like crazy over the next few years; I need an HR person I can trust. Interested in that?" Karen nodded again, and Mattie extended her hand. "Welcome to Arrowhead. You're now employee #4, and you are the last direct hire I do. We'll negotiate your contract later."

"What do you mean the last direct hire?"

"It would not be ethical for me to hire any of you directly," Mattie said, waving at the group. "It would always be regarded as favoritism, no matter how qualified you might be. I can suggest to Karen that she interview someone, but that's as far as I go, the rest of you have to sell yourselves to her, she has to decide to hire and fire. Especially people that I'm close to, like Sprink, or Arthur," and he nodded.

"That makes sense," Arthur agreed. "Everything has to be legitimate and above-board. Family-run firms are usually poorly managed."

"Exactly. That's why Gringotts is on board for financial services. Not only do they help us make great boatloads of money, they also have the expertise to manage it I don't. My Aunt Sheila is an attorney, she handles the legal side, Karen will be working closely with her regarding labor law." She glanced at Karen, "The only requirement I have at the moment is fluency in English, clear communication is vital. Beyond that..."

"The moon, and space, are a different place," Anne said. "What 'twere crippling injuries here may not be there."

"Good point, Anne's spent more time in space than I have," Mattie said, Karen making a note.

------------------------


	17. Week Thirty Eight, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
17 – Week Thirty Eight, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, May 6, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 07:04  
_**------------------------

"You're up early," Arthur commented as Mattie joined the table.

She covered her mouth to yawn as she poured a cup of coffee. "I'm a bit nervous," she admitted. "Tonight's the lunar sunth, we were going to fly up and see what happens with Felicia and Professor Lupin." She took a sip, "Last month, they didn't take any potion. They used a bubble-head charm, they still transformed, but they sat around the cell talking while the others slept. I don't know if it's a complete cure, but..."

"What's a sunth?"

"The change between the two-week days and nights on the moon," Sprink said as she joined them. She yawned, "It's the sun's sunrise. Changing every two weeks instead of once a month will be a pain, but without the mindless, feral side, and the danger, I'll take it. Even if it's not a complete cure." She raised her teacup as Amanda and Felicia joined them, "G'morning!"

"Morning," Mattie said, sipping her coffee, "Anyway, Anne's in the infirmary, Ami Bones called them."

"What for?" Felicia asked.

"The flu bug that's been going around," she said. "Her immune system hasn't caught up to this century yet."

Sprink nodded, "I heard her moaning an' thrashing about last night. I thought it was another of ..." she shut up quickly.

"Another what?" Amanda asked. "Nightmare?" Sprink reluctantly nodded.

Kent Bundy stopped on his way to the Slytherin table, "Madame Pomfrey says Anne will be all right, but she'll miss classes tomorrow. Kelly and Karen are with her, I was thrown out." He frowned. "Can I get her anything?"

"She likes hot currant rolls with cinnamon and sugar on top," Mattie replied. "Get breakfast, we'll sneak you in with some." The first year grinned and moved off.

------------------------

Kent nervously cradled the large plate of rolls (a dish towel insulating his hands), as Mattie and Sprink paused outside the Infirmary. Sprink grinned, "Here's the plan. Mattie casts an invisibility spell on us, I'll transform, an' when you hear me scratch the door, we can sneak in."

"Got it," Kent said, and started as a grey-furred wolf appeared with a pop. Mattie grinned, waved her wand, and picked up the large tankard of cold milk from the floor as a faint scratch was heard on the door.

------------------------

"She's asleep," Anne heard, and she opened her eyes, "Nae, just resting mine eyes," she admitted as her young brother Kent appeared with Sprink and Mattie.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"Some, but the Healer desires that I stay here for the nonce, for 'observation'." She sniffed, "What have you there?"

"Food, to build your strength," Kent said, "and milk to wash it down." Sprink pulled a small table over, adjusting it as the platter of buns appeared.

"So, what is the news?" Anne asked.

"Alfred sends his best," Mattie said, then leaned back as Kent leaned forward, "I learned this really neat hex in class..."

------------------------

"Pomfrey!" Sprink hissed, and a few seconds later the mediwitch appeared. "I thought I told you to rest, Miss Bundy," she said, "and you, Mr. Bundy, I sent off." She sighed, "You are with Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne. I should have suspected as much. Despite how delicious these are," she stole a tiny bite, "they are not good for you. Finish that one, and drink your milk. Leave the rest for your visitors to finish. You may have another twenty minutes, and then they will leave, and you will sleep for at least two hours, after which lunch will be served." She stole another tiny bite, then left.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, May 8, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Muggle studies: 16:40  
_**------------------------

"The muggle military," Professor Harry said to the group of teenage students. "We generally don't have much to do with them, although wizards have gotten involved once or twice. They're generally concerned with external defense, while the Aurors and police handle internal problems. They're usually split up into an army for land, navy for the sea, and air force for, well, the air."

"There are also commando forces that are small, designed to infiltrate an area, perform a mission, and extract without being detected," Professor Croft added. She touched the remote on the muggle slide projector, it whirred and ka-chunked as a slide appeared. "This is an SAS trooper; you may remember them from last year, when they were guarding Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Each country has several units of these types of troops."

"Oooh, like that uniform," Sprink muttered, licking her lips. Mattie turned and looked at her, and she asked, "What? He's a good looking bloke!" She regarded her friend, "You've got an idea forming, mate, what is it?"

Mattie shook her head as Professor Harry cleared his throat, "If you're finished, Miss Tonks?" She blushed, the class tittered, and he continued, "Care to comment, Miss Wayne?"

"Not at the moment, sir," she replied. "Please continue."

"Right..." he said, looking at her. He shook himself, "The units are usually split up under the different forces; for example the Navy has units that are primarily oriented toward seaborne operations, although they are equally competent on land." He eyed Mattie again, "I understand they're guarding Miss Wayne's starship."

"No comment, sir. I really don't have 'need to know' about what they're doing. I do understand they've forces from our allies in Germany and Russia, but that's all I know." She looked at the professor, "They have beaten off four attempts at Alfred's kidnapping. What they do with their prisoners, I have no idea."

"Who is 'Alfred'?" Professor Croft asked.

"Alfred is the AI, or artificial intelligence, on board the _Yates_," Mattie replied. "Much more than a simple computer, he's a thinking being, who happens to inhabit a starship. We're working on getting him legal recognition as a person, right now; he's the only AI on the planet, although schools like MIT and ETH Zurich are working on development, reverse-engineering his kernel." She added, "His core program, with his permission, of course."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 9, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:13  
_**------------------------

"...I believe that concludes the Hogwarts business," Minerva said. "Has anyone anything else?"

"Adelle is, surprisingly, still hanging in there," Lara Croft said. "She's become an alcoholic, and will need treatment, but she's surviving on pub grub and Irish whiskey. She roundly cursed me for getting her into this mess, along with the others in the pub. Fortunately, they didn't know what a 'muggle' was."

"Alfred requests a cook with German and Russian experience," Callista Vector said. "Apparently he's been feeding the troops guarding him, they're asking for home-cooked meals. He's also forwarded the request to Molly Weasley."

"The recipes are transferring correctly?" Harry asked.

"He's even developed regional variants, based on what the troops tell him," Callista replied. "His only real questions are where to send the commission money, and beer and vodka for the troops. Their commanders have over-ruled his serving them that, but he'd still like to get the data."

"We'll ask when we find that cook," Harry said. "A pint or two can be welcome, I know," and Narcissa frowned at him.

"I have some partial news," Severus said. "Apparently physical contact with the moon is enough to restore sanity for werewolves. They are still forced to transform, however, they lose their partial invulnerability to spells." He steepled his fingers, "Miss Hansen and Miss Tonks report that on the whole, they consider it an acceptable trade. They also picked up a rock; Mr. Slater has volunteered to test if that has the same properties next month. For now, they are still confining themselves for other's safety."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 9, 2001:  
Hogwarts, (old) History class: 13:17  
_**------------------------

Professor Binns finished calling the roll (of students long dead), and launched into the Goblin wars of 1570. Asking a question, he waited for a reply. He heard only silence, and looked up from his lecture notes, seeing an empty class.

He floated about the room, looking for his students, then left through a wall.

------------------------

Minerva looked up as Professor Binns floated through a wall in a state of high excitement (for him). "Albus! My students, they've gone! What shall we... oh, hello, Minerva. Where's Albus?"

"He retired at the end of last term, Horace," she said, steepling her fingers. "We missed you at the staff party. I am the new Headmistress. Now, what's this about your students?"

"They're gone! They're all gone! What shall we do?"

"Horace, you are aware that I've sat in on your classes?" Minerva asked adding, "The same students you call for every class? Percy Weatherby died of old age in 1844, one hundred fifty seven years ago." She moved to a couch, patting the seat next to her. "There has been a great deal that has happened in the world since the Goblin Wars, and you have not kept up."

"But... But who shall teach my classes?"

"We have an extremely competent fellow teaching History now," Minerva said gently. "Perhaps it is time you moved on?" She raised her voice slightly, "Baron?"

"We are here, Minerva," he said, appearing. "Thank you for handling this, but we shall help Horace from here." He moved closer to the distraught ghost, "Come along, my friend. We have a great deal to discuss."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, May 10, 2001:  
London, DMLE: 16:04  
_**------------------------

Lucille backed against the door, waiting while the guard removed her handcuffs. The slot banged closed and locked, and she idly wandered around, kicking the orange ball provided for her 'exercise' and wondering what the red hoop mounted in the wall was for. She looked around, white stone walls and ceiling, and a steel door she had come through. Picking up the ball, she sat against the wall to wait.

------------------------

The steel door creaked open, slamming behind someone. She looked up as two large women entered. They crossed their arms, one saying, "You bounce the ball and try to get it through the hoop. It's called basketball."

"Muggle sport," Lucille sneered.

"Why, yes. Yes it is, and you'd be our own Death Eater scum, Malfoy. All alone, without a wand or your precious Dark Lord. The one that ordered the death of my family."

"You're so young, now, and wearing blocking bands for your magic," the other crooned. "It's such an understandable error, the guards have this room as vacant right now." She cracked her knuckles, "It might be a while before the mistake is noticed. We'll give you a chance, Malfoy, to die on your feet. It's more than you gave our families when you killed them."

------------------------

"You're lucky the guard heard the noise," the mediwitch told Lucille. "You'd have died in there."

"It does not matter," the young blonde said. "I shall be out of here and free once this farce of a trial is over. Then I can continue my work of eliminating the muggle scum that infests England."

"P'haps you'd best not talk. You are under the influence of potions," the mediwitch replied, looking at her patient. Plaster wrapped her arms and torso, one leg was elevated.

"It does not matter, even if they kill me, for I shall proceed on to the next step in my glorious plan, of becoming ruling Queen of Hell itself," the girl proclaimed. "I have earned the right!" she said, waving an arm. "Did you not see the marks, the marks of my crucifixion?"

"Er, yes, yes we did," the mediwitch said, standing. She checked the shackle securing the patient to the bed, then left as the prisoner cackled.

------------------------  
**_Friday, May 11, 2001:  
Dover Castle, third level dungeons: 12:38  
_**------------------------

"Guter Nachmittag, mein Freund. Wie gehen Sie fühlend?" (Good afternoon, my friend. How are you feeling?)

"Ein wenig Kopfschmerzen. Wo bin ich? Ich dachte, daß ich in England war." (A bit of a headache. Where am I? I thought I was in England.)

"You are," a voice replied. "We'll have the doctor take a look at you in a minute. However, you were caught in civilian clothing, while carrying weapons without license, trying to steal an object the Crown has issued a Letter of Interest on. We can send you off for a very long time under the terrorism statutes, unless you'd like to talk."

"We are all professionals here," a third voice said with an Oxford accent. "Indeed, at one time or another, our countries have been allies. We have no more desire to cause you pain then you have to receive it. We are not KGB or SS."

"Danken Sie Gott!" (Thank God!) The German muttered. Switching to English, he said, "Mein Herr, we know what your orders are, we know a great deal about you and the activities in the States. As Herr Dimitri said, we are professionals. Will you co-operate, or must we call in the doctor with his needle full of truth serum?"

"Call in the doctor and let us get this over with. I have professional standards to which I must adhere, so we may as well skip the preliminaries."

------------------------  
**_Friday, May 11, 2001:  
London, DMLE: 17:54  
_**------------------------

"Miss Malfoy?" Lucille looked up as the man continued, "I am Rufus Scrimgeour, head of DMLE. I would like to assure you and your solicitor that the attack upon you was unauthorized, and the participants shall be identified and dealt with."

"Given past history, I doubt that," Lucille snorted.

He harrumphed, "The two inmates that beat you have already been arrested and charged with battery, we are investigating which guards were colluding with them. If guilty, they will, at a minimum, lose their positions." He eyed her, "I can understand their positions; you are a supremely unpopular inmate, Miss Malfoy. There is a great deal of alleged blood on your hands, a great many people want revenge. Still, Great Britain is a nation of LAW, and those laws will be obeyed!" He thumped his walking stick. "Any assistance you can give to the Crown will be appreciated." Lucille snorted, Rufus nodded. "Very well, best wishes on your ... recovery, Miss Malfoy. Good day."

------------------------


	18. Week Forty One, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
18 – Week Forty One, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, May 27, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:42  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

Mattie and the other students looked up to see the usual flock of owls (and bats) enter the Great Hall. Some of them headed for the Ravenclaw table, but Mattie whistled, and they changed course. She looked over at an exhausted Amy, bent over a textbook, frantically studying for her OWLs, smiled, and said, "Don't worry about these."

Sprink already had the Reporter open, the headline announcing 'Arrests in Malfoy case'. Arthur leaned over and stole the business section, Mattie overhearing him mutter, "Damn, sucks to be me." He folded the page, heading to Gryffindor and sitting next to his sister, casting a privacy spell. Charlie whistled, helping with her mail.

------------------------

"What can I do for you, brother mine?" Julie asked as Arthur joined her.

He gave her a quick grin, casting a privacy spell. "Did you set up any secret ways to talk to Mom and Dad? I didn't," he confessed.

"Mr. Paranoid doesn't have a web mail account?" she teased. "I'm shocked. I send an email to Mom's work account with the word 'Carson' in the subject; then I code my message a certain way you don't need to know about. Is that good enough?"

"Mr. Paranoid's e-mail accounts are all subject to routine monitoring." He thought for a minute; then scribbled a message on a blank page in one of her notebooks.

She looked at it, saying "You still have horrible handwriting."

He snorted, "It says, 'Buy tungsten or tungsten futures, price expected to go up, will explain end of term.'" He looked at his sister, "Just for you, I've been overhearing Mattie talk. The galactic currency is tungsten, the London price is £5.16 a kilo. Her company, Arrowhead, has been quietly buying tungsten, as have the Royal Exchequer and I'm sure Gringotts is sitting on a nice pile. Apparently, that's why this system keeps being invaded; we're ignorant, defenseless barbarians sitting on a small mountain of gold."

"Or in this case, tungsten," his sister breathed, her eyes wide. "Is this insider trading?"

"I don't work for Arrowhead, so I don't see how it could be. I think it's the same as overhearing a conversation in the barber shop. And obviously, don't even think of mentioning this to anyone else."

------------------------  
_**Monday, May 28, 2001:  
London, **The Leaky Cauldron**: 07:03  
**_------------------------

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," Albus said, pouring tea for his visitor. "I don't see you that often."

"No, we're all so dratted busy," Arthur Weasley said, dropping a cube of sugar in and stirring his tea thoughtfully. "Molly with her catering business, the twins with their shop..." He took a sip; then set his tea down, asking, "I wanted to get your thoughts, Albus. Recently, I ran across this flyer, and asked Ginny and Harry to go with Bill and Fleur."

Albus unrolled the flyer, weighting it down with the sugar bowl. He frowned, it showed a young woman in an abbreviated tuxedo, fishnet hose on her legs, with a rather confused rabbit looking out of a top hat. Large letters proclaimed, 'One week only! Zatanna the Magnificent!' He looked over at Arthur, "Aside from the brevity of her costume, I see nothing unusual. A muggle stage performer."

"Ah, but she isn't, Albus. She's a registered American mage, and my spies reported she performed actual magic." He took a sip, adding, "Nothing any third-year couldn't do, conjuring, transfiguration, banishment. However, she did it _in public_, and the Ministry didn't come down on her for it." He took a contemplative sip, "Nor did the Americans and I wonder why."

"The secrecy acts..." Albus mused. "At the time, they were a British colony, so our endorsement would have applied to them. I wonder, did they ever endorse them, or has the question arisen before." He poured his own cup of tea, glancing at the chairman of the Muggle Relations committee as he added a dash of lemon. "There's something else, isn't there, Arthur?"

"There is, are you aware of 'Speaker's Corner'?" Arthur continued, "It's the northeastern corner of Hyde Park, where you can go to speak your mind." Albus nodded, "On Sundays, there's been a bloke there doing magic, real magic, across from the usual muggle religious types. Nobody's taken any notice of him except the parents with their tykes and prams. From what people have said, he's been there for _months_." He took a calming sip of tea, "I wonder if it's time to have another look at the secrecy acts. Perhaps... perhaps we needn't hide any more."

------------------------  
**_Monday, May 28, 2001:  
Columbus, Ohio, The Ohio State University Library: 07:49 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

Magdalena Morton set down her purse and the insulated bag with her lunch. Pushing the button, she looked through her mail as the computer booted, sorting out the bills from the flyers and memos. Logging in, she went to get a cup of tea, sipping it as she walked back to her desk, stopping short when she saw she had 'Carson' email.

Opening the folder, she quickly scanned the subject line, '_Three dots in her ellipses – important, but not urgent_' she thought. She glanced through the usual babble, hitting 'Print' so she could decrypt the message:

AM sends: "MW & co buying tungsten & futures. Strongly suggested - Full reason end of term." JM: "Like gold strong buy keep private."

'_Interesting..._' she mused, as she shredded the scrap of paper the decrypted message was on. Folding the original message, she went to look for a book on investing.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, May 29, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 08:53  
_**------------------------

Mattie stopped on the way to Alchemy, and gave Julie a quick hug, "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks," she replied. "You know, for the next two days, you and I are the same age."

"Oh, that's cool," Mattie said. "I can't wait to grow up!"

"Mom would say, 'Give it time, dear,'" Julie remarked.

Mattie nodded, "Mine says, 'it will get here sooner than you think.'"

------------------------

Professor Lupin looked up from the roll, "Miss Morton... happy birthday, by the by."

"Thank you, sir, but how did you know?"

He looked over his reading glasses at her, "Were you perchance enrolled in the wrong school, Miss Morton? This is a school for witches and wizards, therefore magic is practiced." She blushed, and he smiled, raising a sheet of paper, "The minutes for tomorrow's staff meeting have birthdays for this week and next. Moving on... Mr. Nance is here..."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 30, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:49  
_**------------------------

"... is there any other business? Hogwarts business," Minerva clarified.

"How are you two doing with Mr. Morton?" Pomona asked. "I've noticed Miss Wayne shooting him looks in Herbology."

"Unfortunately, I have it on good authority from Mr. Adams that Mr. Morton will not 'make a move' as he called it, until Miss Wayne's 13th birthday," Severus said. "Which is tomorrow," he added, tapping the sheet with the meeting's minutes.

Ginny snorted, "My dear husband and the honored professor seem to have overlooked something in their romantic plotting." Severus raised an eyebrow, "Do either of you knuckleheads realize that the harder you push Mr. Morton and Miss Wayne, the harder they resist?" Ginny asked sweetly. "Mother said, 'To all things, there is a season.' Let those two find their own."

Severus snorted, "You are saying if we wish them together, we should separate them?"

"Only if you wish the castle brought down about your ears."

Harry glanced at his wife, then at Severus. "It would not surprise me at all if Miss Wayne had a way to do so."

"Likely more than one, but I would not discount Mr. Morton."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 30, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 14:46  
_**------------------------

A soft 'ping' announced new mail.

_To: Mattie Wayne  
From: Cassidy Yates  
Date: 30 May, 2001  
Subject: What's happening?  
_

_Look which sleepyhead just woke up! What's happening with you and my supposed killer? Alfred says I'm fit to testify, for all the good it will do, I don't remember much.  
Cassidy_

Mattie nudged Anne, turning the laptop so she could read the message. "She's awake! When can we see her?"

"See who?" Sprink asked.

Mattie was typing away:

_To: Cassidy Yates  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 30 May, 2001  
Subject: Re: What's happening?  
_

_Hey, there sleepyhead! _

_Anne's sitting next to me, ready to run out the door. Malfoy's trial for your murder is scheduled for June 8th, you cut it close! We'll see when we can pick you up if you're interested in testifying. _

_Mattie _

Sprink was using her laptop:

_To: Nymphie (Work)  
From: Susquehanna Tonks  
Date: 30 May, 2001  
Subject: Malfoy's trial  
_

_Hey, big sis!  
Guess who I heard just woke up! Would the murder victim be a useful witness in Malfoy's trial?  
Sprink _

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 30, 2001:  
London, Charing Cross station, DMLE: 14:53  
_**------------------------

Tonk's laptop 'dinged', she cursed softly as she knocked over her teacup, flooding her desk. Fortunately, she had remembered the hover charm on the compulator. She clicked on her mail thing, reading her sister's mail; her mouth dropping open. "Gor..." she whispered to herself, clicking on 'Print'. She ran in her stocking feet to the print thing, waiting while it whirred, producing a sheet of A4. Rapping once on Rufus' doorframe, she breathlessly asked, "Malfoy's trial. We can get a new witness."

His heavy eyebrows lowered. "Who?"

"The victim, um, Yates. She's somehow been raised from the dead."

Scrimgeour shoved back in his chair, "How is this possible? Do we have another dark wizard?"

"Don' think so, my sister would have mentioned it. No, I think this is something with Wayne's ship. April first, she took off like a scalded snitch just after she crossed over."

Scrimgeour's brow creased, "Ah, yes, the time-travel thing," he mused. "Go talk to Donalson in the Crown's office down the hall, he's handling the case. WITH your shoes on, Tonks." She turned to go, he said, "One other thing," and pointed his wand, "'_Evansco_!' I won't have my people look like gutter trash."

------------------------

Showing her ID, Tonks asked the receptionist, "Where's Donalson? I'm assigned to one 'a his cases."

She waved, "Straight back, on the left, across from the gent's." She went back to reading Witch Weekly. Tonks paused for a minute; then shook her head as she threaded her way back, cursing her sore feet.

------------------------

Tonks took in the messy office. Donalson was apparently better at hover charms than she was; the young, skinny fellow had files floating in midair, stacked on top of each other. He was also prematurely bald. Sighing, she rapped on the open door frame, "Donalson? I'm Tonks, assigned to the Malfoy murder case."

He started, tearing a few hairs out with his clenched fists. "Eh, Malfoy?" He blinked owlishly, his prominent Adam's apple swerving up and down. He flicked his wand, papers spilling out of folders as they zoomed across the office. "Have a seat, please. What can I do for you?"

Tonks pitied this bloke's secretary. "I just got an email from my sister at Hogwarts. It seems..."

"Yes, yes, that's all very nice, but we have far more to worry about than Quidditch and house pranks. If you wish to reminisce, I'll meet you at ..."

'_Bloody tosser_' she thought. "Would you like another witness?" she asked sweetly. "If you're not interested..."

"Who, the Wayne chit again?" He snorted, putting his head back down. "Not interested, she's too far off her rocker, filled with tales of starships and other rot."

Tonks settled back, arranging her skirt, "I've been in that starship, but no, I wasn't suggesting Wayne. I was thinking of the victim."

Donalson looked through his thinning fringe of hair, over his spectacles. "Yates, wasn't it? Dead and buried."

"Alive."

His head jerked up, "She took an AK to the heart, and we have a hundred witnesses to the murder. Are you telling me Wayne is a Dark Witch? That's she's raising the dead?"

Tonks sat back, steepling her fingers, then examining her nails. "No."

Donalson slammed his hand on the desk, "Then what the bloody hell ARE you telling me?"

"Typical bloody Gryff," Tonks snorted. She sat up in the worn wooden chair, pulling her sister's email out of her sleeve and tossing it on the cluttered desk. "I'm telling you that Miss Cassidy Yates has been resuscitated from the dead by Miss Wayne's starship, and is available to testify in her own murder. Now, if you're not interested, I'll tell that to Rufus, and wish you the best of luck." She stood, adding, "G'day," as she left.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, May 31, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms, common room: 04:58  
_**------------------------

"You sure this is all right?" Cassidy whispered, pausing to cover someone who had fallen asleep studying.

"'Tis certain to surprise her, especially with the silencing charms we wear," Anne said.

"Not like I was to climb out of the bloody tank to find myself naked in front of some card-playing soldiers!" Cassidy said. Sprink snorted, saying, "Over here, down these stairs."

------------------------

Sprink counted down, then ripped the hangings apart, yelling, "'_Aqueous..._'"

"'_Stupefy_'" came the whispered word from above, and as they splashed into the soaked sheets, the comment, "When are you lot going to learn to look UP? At least you remembered to use a silencing spell, this year." Mattie disengaged her harness, dropping lightly to the floor. "Second year in a row," she chided, looking over at Connie and Ami Bones. "I hope your pranks are better than these three... '_Enervate_'. Hello, Cassidy, welcome back."

"Not what I needed after being dead," she muttered, rubbing her head. "You pack a helluva punch, Wayne."

"I try. Feeling better?"

"Oh, yeah." Cassidy pulled open a small bag, and extracted a disk, "Alfred sent his remote." It floated up, and his holographic head appeared, "Good morning, and Happy Birthday, Captain."

"Thank you, Alfred. What's your status?"

"Unchanged, although some of the troops were asking about 'taking me for a spin'." The remote turned slightly, "Might we consider it?"

The other girls in the dorm were eyeing Mattie with interest. "Possibly, we've only got a couple weeks of school left. How many could we take and where?"

"Possibly a dozen, I shall inquire of the commanders which of their troops they believe should go."

"That will officially make them astronauts," Cassidy said. "I understand it's still a rare distinction now." She sat back against the soaked bed, "We could pair up, one soldier and one student, although personally, I'd rather not go back to Eridani. Rann's nice and close."

"Rann?" Connie asked.

"Sorry, Alpha Centauri five," Cassidy explained. "Eta Cassiopeia III is only twenty lights or so, nice little Class M world, friendly people... well, when I went there. Will go there, sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Tenses with time travel get you all farked up."

"I still find it hard to believe you're from the future," Ami Bones said.

Cassidy shrugged, "I was born Wednesday, March 15, 2367, take it or leave it."

------------------------

On the way from the dungeons to breakfast, Sprink said, "Oy, there! Cassidy, I'd like you to meet some o' my favorite Huffies, this is Charlie Adams and Arthur Morton. Guys, this is Cassidy Yates."

Cassidy stared, whispered "Grandpa Arthur?" as her eyes rolled back and she fainted. Charlie caught her, saying "You've got a way with the ladies, mate."

"Let's get her to the Infirmary," Mattie said, explaining, "She does that when she meets someone she recognizes." Sprink levitated Cassidy as Mattie added, "She screamed when she met me."

"It's those dark alleys," Arthur said sarcastically as he wondered, '_Why does she recognize me_?'

------------------------

Cassidy woke up slowly, stretching slowly under the warm grey blankets. Still in a bit of mental fog, she looked about the room at the white painted stone walls, the unlit torches in their wall sconces, the white metal bed she lay in. She wiggled her toes, realizing she was in a simple nightdress, her clothing undoubtedly in the small dresser next to her.

One of the white screens moved aside, a frowning woman in a long grey and white uniform silently inspecting her. She moved to stand next to the bed, waving her wand over Cassidy. She nodded to herself, giving a small smile as she pulled over a chair. "I am Madame Pomfrey my dear, are you feeling better?"

"Embarrassed," Cassidy admitted.

"That is understandable, although I would suggest apologizing to Mr. Morton."

"I can't!" she said, pulling a pillow over her head. "He's related!"

"That excuses you from common courtesy?"

"No! Yes! No... Oh, it's complicated! I don't want to disappear in a burst of logic."

"It does explain some of your test results though," Poppy said, pulling the pillow Cassidy was hiding behind down.

Cassidy warily clutched it in a hug, "Anything I tell you is private, right?"

"Yes, there's healer - patient trust," Poppy confirmed, casting a privacy spell as she leaned close. "That confirms something I had wondered about. The school's rumour mill has it you are visiting from our future, and your test results showed traits I had seen in two other students. Given the ... close relationship you have with Miss Wayne, and the similarities, I wonder, are you her daughter?"

Cassidy flopped back on the bed again, hiding her face as she muttered, "Great-granddaughter."

Poppy reached over to pull down the pillow again, "That explains a great deal. Please rest assured the only one I shall inform of this is my associate Narcissa. However, I do wonder about the blonde hair – you're not using a '_rechromis_' spell, and Miss Wayne's hair is most definitely black."

"A gene from the Morton side of the tree," Cassidy explained, and Poppy nodded. "I mean, before this little trip through time, I just knew them from studying family history, and Gran's journals were a really fascinating read once we hacked her encryption..." She shook herself, "Y'know, I remember this same room from the fourteenth century, and from mine. Doesn't it ever change?"

"We moved the Infirmary a few years ago. What do you mean 'yours'? You've attended Hogwarts?"

"Aaah!" The pillow covered her face again, and Poppy pulled it down again. "I shouldn't have said that!" Poppy gazed at her, and Cassidy wilted. "I swear, these are the exact same beds and everything I remember from the Middle Ages, and from when Healer Muller would patch me up after Quidditch." She sighed, adding, "I never was a very good Chaser, I was more of a Bludger - magnet." She looked at Poppy, "Can I go now?"

"Rest a bit more, please. Take a nap now, and I'll wake you for lunch."

"Same thing Healer Muller would say. Do you all read the same screen?" Cassidy flopped back, Poppy pulling up her blankets and patting her arm.

------------------------

"Good afternoon, Miss Yates," Minerva said, adding, "Welcome to my Hogwarts. I hope you don't mind my bringing someone along who wanted to meet you."

"Na, I... Alastair?" Cassidy put down the copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ she had been reading as Minerva pulled up a chair, placing Alastair on the bed. She examined him, commenting, "You're clean!"

"I am? Minerva, have you done something while I've been snoozing?" Alastair harrumphed, adding "Go on, Miss Yates, put me on, we've got a bit of catching up to do." Hesitantly, she reached out and placed him on her head.

"_Hello, Miss Yates, welcome back to Hogwarts." _

"_Hello, Alastair. What do you mean, welcome back?_"

"_I've touched thousands of minds, Miss Yates; I can recognize my presence, even if it hasn't yet occurred._" He chuckled silently. "_No, I shan't read the future from your mind, although I do confess to intense curiosity._"

"_I think that's typical, the people in the fourteenth century felt the same. I think I would, too._"

"_Ah, yes, I remember them well. I remember sorting each and every one of them, and every conversation I've had. I remember sorting an extremely nervous Miss Oldridge for her first year, and our conversation the night she died in her sleep. She did ask me to pass on a message were I ever to grace your head again. However, I will require your permission to touch your mind to replay that conversation._" He added, "_Just that, Miss Yates, I won't touch your future memories._"

"_All right, then._" She felt Alastair's gentle touch, and then the memories began...

------------------------  
**_Thursday, May 31, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Potions class: 09:00  
_**------------------------

The door slammed and locked, the class instantly falling silent. Professor Snape looked them over, he then opening the folder containing the roll. As his eyes silently flicked about the class, he whispered, "Miss Wayne, please see me after class." Closing the folder, he added, "Happy Birthday, by the by."

------------------------

"You wished to see me, sir?"

He glared at Sprink and Arthur, who quickly left. "Yes, Miss Wayne," he said, passing her a sealed envelope. "Your mother passed this on to me, to give you today."

"What is it, sir?"

"I do not know, although your mother did say it was from your father."

------------------------

Mattie stared at the envelope, written on the envelope in her father's hand were the words '_Mattie Wayne – open on May 31, 2001_'. Her head jerked up when Sprink asked, "Gonna open it?"

"I ... I don't know. I'm almost afraid to."

Sprink snorted, and stood up. A minute later, Tomas sat next to Mattie, and laid his hand on her shoulder. "I am here, my sister. Open the letter."

She took a deep breath, then slit the top, extracting several sheets.

_May 31, 1999 _

_My beloved daughter -  
I'm sitting here in my office, on your first birthday away from home, away from family. If you're reading this today, it's your thirteenth birthday, and you're officially a teenager, officially a young woman. _

_I'd like to say how very proud I am of you, and how... _

Mattie burst into sobs, crumpling the letter into her waist as Tomas pulled her into a gentle hug, letting her cry on his shoulder. He gently extracted the letter from her grip, refolding it and placing it back in the envelope as she cried.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, June 2, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Astronomy tower roof: 10:34  
_**------------------------

Mattie straddled the stone bench, laptop in front of her, and looked over the parapet while it booted. If she looked down, she could see where the _Yates_ had parked all those centuries ago. '_It almost seems like a dream_,' she thought, then chided herself, putting herself back on task.

She recalled a part of her father's letter to her: '_I suggest you do a self-evaluation, listing tasks, the pros and cons of each, and decide how much effort you need to put into it._'

'Finish school' she wrote, crossing it out to write 'Finish Hogwarts':  
_An education is important to my success in life;  
An education is not only about the subject matter, but how to succeed;  
My family expects me to be educated;  
An education is necessary for my future plans.  
__Arrowhead and Ballycastle take up a great deal of time;  
I don't know how much time I'll have for college. _

Leaving some space, she wrote 'College';  
_I don't know what I'll major in – business, I presume. What major, though, prepares me for colonizing the stars?  
Where would I go to school? Gotham? London?  
I like London, but Gotham is home. London would be more useful, though. _

Leaving some more space, she took a breath, then wrote 'BatClan':  
_Do I want to continue Dad's mission? His obsession?  
I think Mom is doing it out of a sense of duty.  
I can help people, but can I help more with Arrowhead? _

She bit her lip, then left some space, and wrote 'Arrowhead':  
_This can be the future of the human race, or one of the most collossal mistakes in history. How do I get the first, and not the second?  
How much should I rely on Cassidy?  
This is an enormous roll of the dice, and I'm scared as hell. WHAT IF I SCREW THIS UP? _

A bit more space, and then simply 'Ring':  
_A very useful tool, but I can't stand the Guardian's 'don't care' attitude about the slavery problem.  
If I keep it, I'll need to accept missions from the Guardians, I can't pick and choose them. This will affect Arrowhead and school.  
If I give it back, will there come a time (almost certainly!) when I'll regret giving it up?  
Which is more important, Arrowhead and school, or saving lives as a GL?_

'Sprink':  
_Best bud. I want her at my back. Would I do anything for her? Yep. Would she and her family do anything for me? Yep. _

Lastly, the simple word, 'Arthur':  
_Pigheaded. Brilliant. My soul-mate? He has my back, I know. Stubborn. Keeps me from getting a swelled head. Well grounded. Nice family. Proud. Secret-keeper without my asking him. Would I kill for him? Possibly. Would he kill for me? If needed, definitely._

Mattie saved the file, encrypting it, lost in thought.

------------------------


	19. Week Forty Two, Third Year

(A/N: Sorry for the delay, everyone. The US tax season is here!)

------------------------

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
19 – Week Forty Two, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, June 3, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 06:07  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

People looked up at the hoarse call, Charlie muttering, "You would think during examination week..." then looking up "Oy, you for Wayne, over here!"

"Thank you, Charlie," Mattie mumbled, stifling a yawn herself.

------------------------  
**_Monday, June 4, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 13:00  
_**------------------------

The bell rang as the door slammed and locked; the class instantly silent. Professor Snape appeared in his characteristic swirl of black robes, stalking silently toward the front. He glowered, "Today, you will complete the examination. As always, you are to use the quills and ink I supply in order to prevent cheating." He waved his wand; five numbered bottles appeared on a small table; "As part of the examination, you will correctly identify each of these substances and give the physical and magical properties of each." Waving his wand again, the exam appeared on each desk, "You have four hours. Begin."

------------------------

As the study group trudged toward the great hall, Andrew asked, "Which kind of eyes were in bottle #3? They were too small to be octopus, and too large for rat's eyes."

"Puffer fish," one of the twins said as she yawned. "It's what I put down, anyway."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, June 5, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Charms classroom: 09:00  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, good morning everyone!" Professor Flitwick called as Mattie yawned. "Come, come, one at a time, form a queue and draw a charm from the bowl and perform it, then reverse it for me. If you do it right, and I'm certain you will, you're done! Who's first? Miss Tonks, you don't look all right."

"Full moon tonight, sir," she mumbled.

"Would you like to take a pass?" Sprink shook her head, "Then please step right up." He shook the bowl of parchment slips, Sprink reaching in for one and handing it to the tiny professor.

"A cheering charm! Excellent! Why don't you perform it on Miss Hansen, she'll do her charm on you, and then the two of you are dismissed to the Infirmary." Professor Flitwick watched as Felicia made her way to the front, '_exhilaro_' she called. Felicia's exhausted face immediately brightened, and she smiled brilliantly.

"Very well done, Miss Tonks, full marks! I'm reluctant to ask you to take it off her ..." Sprink nodded, performing the counter-charm. Professor Flitwick picked up the bowl again, "Miss Hansen?" Felicia reached into the bowl, extracting a slip of parchment. "The Bubble-Head charm! If you would?"

'S_pirabilis_' she cast, waving her wand in a spiral over her head. Professor Flitwick cast a smoke charm at her, it eddied around the charm. Banishing the smoke, Flitwick nodded at Felicia, she performed the counter-charm.

"Excellent! Full marks, Miss Hansen! Now, off to the Infirmary with the two of you. Mr. Adams, if you would?" He held out the bowl for Charlie.

Charlie made his way up, drawing the colour change charm. He looked around, and Professor Flitwick called, "Miss Wayne, do you mind being Mr. Adam's subject?"

"Not at all, sir," Mattie said, making her way up to the front of the class. "I presume I'll go next, then."

"That is a safe assumption," Professor Flitwick said with a chortle, "Mr. Adams, please change her hair to a nice sky blue, and then reverse it."

"Yes, sir," Charlie turned to Mattie, casting '_rechromis follicus caeruleus_'. Mattie lifted the end of her braid, wincing. "It looks good, would you like to keep it?" Charlie joked.

"Thank you, no," Mattie said dryly. "Change it back, please." Charlie smiled, casting the counter-charm, turning it a pale blue. "Oops."

"Partial marks, Mr. Adams," Flitwick said, casting the proper counter-charm. Her hair darkened, but remained blue, and he sighed, '_rechromis follicus furvus_' and her hair changed to black again. "Miss Wayne?"

Mattie reached in the bowl, drawing a slip of paper and handing it to the professor. "The Confundus charm! Miss Wayne?"

She blinked, taking a step back while she thought, then aimed her wand at Charlie and began chanting, waving her wand in a complex series. Charlie stiffened, his eyes glazed over, and he started to wander about the classroom, bumping into random objects. Professor Flitwick raised an eyebrow, "Where did you learn that, Miss Wayne?"

"Professor Oldridge taught it to me, sir."

"Professor... One moment, please." The tiny professor hurried into his office, returning in a few minutes levitating a thick, dusty tome. He consulted it as Charlie continued to bump into things, raising his eyebrow again. Looking up, he asked, "Do you know the counter-charm?"

Mattie thought, admitting, "I think so." She summoned Charlie, who was repeatedly bumping into a wall, waving her wand to draw a circle around him, chanting another series with more wand-waving. Charlie shook his head, touching his nose, asking "What happened?"

"An older variant of the Confundus, Mr. Adams," Flitwick replied, "Replaced in the seventeenth century by the modern spell." He consulted his tome again, casting a spell on Charlie; copying the page onto a fresh sheet of parchment. "Please take this to the Infirmary, and have them check you over. There were some nasty side effects discovered later from that spell." As Charlie gathered his things, Flitwick tapped the desk in thought. "I'll give you full marks for the spell and the counter, Miss Wayne, as it's the one you were taught. That was also a nice little summoning charm on Mr. Adams. However, I expect you to learn the modern variant this summer. Miss Bundy and Mr. Morton, why don't the two of you go next?"

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, June 5, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Werewolf dungeon: 18:30  
_**------------------------

Felicia talked to Professor Lupin in wolvish inside the cell as the other werewolves slept. Using a translation spell, Mattie sat outside the cell and filled out Sprink's Muggle Studies examination for her. Abby Michaels nibbled on leftovers from dinner as she studied her NEWT Transfiguration. Jeremy slept against another werewolf, his tail flicking back and forth as he dreamed.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, June 6, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Staff Room: 07:37  
_**------------------------

Amid the clatter of tea things, Minerva said, "One final note. I received notice from the Crown that the presence of Miss Wayne, myself; and Miss Anne Bundy is required in court on Friday morning." She frowned, "I presume Miss Yates will also wish to appear, as it is her murder by Miss Malfoy that is under consideration."

"That is a very odd sentence," Lara Croft said.

"Indeed it is. I presume you will be in court all day?" Callista added.

"I believe that a safe assumption," Minerva said. "How are our werewolves?"

"Sleeping soundly in the Infirmary," Narcissa said.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, June 7, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Potions Classroom: 09:00  
_**------------------------

The door slammed and locked, Professor Snape appearing in a swirl of black robes. He looked over the third-year class, "Today is your potion practical. As Miss Wayne and Miss Bundy were not present for most of the term, they are excused. They will each brew a potion later to my satisfaction for their practical." He waved his wand, the door unlocked, "The two of you are dismissed. I suggest you invest the extra time in study, I shall expect you on Saturday." As Mattie and Anne gathered their things, he addressed the rest of the class, "You will each draw a potion from the bowl, and brew it. You are allowed your notes, but not your text. You have three hours," he turned over an hourglass, "Begin."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, June 7, 2001:  
Hogwarts, DADA Classroom: 13:00  
_**------------------------

As the third years filed into the Defense classroom, they found the desks shrunk and shoved back against the walls. Professor Harry called, "Leave your bags and whatnot against the walls, and spread out, please. Today is a practical examination; you will duel, with the intent being to disable your opponents. Not cripple, not permanently disfigure them, and certainly not kill them. That means, Miss Wayne, using magic _only_, and Miss Bundy, you do recall our discussion on the Unforgivables?"

Anne nodded as Harry continued, "Minimum required force, people, if any of you cause permanent injury, you will regret it. This exam is Pass/Fail, people, just like a real duel would be. Survivors will duel with each other; the final winner will receive a twenty galleon gift certificate for the Wheeze, generously donated by Gred and Forge Weasley. Now, if everyone is straight on the rules?" They nodded, and he cast a protective charm on himself, calling, "Begin!"

Mattie immediately ducked and rolled, casting an invisibility charm on herself. She vanished as Andrew cast '_expelliarmus_' on Arthur, catching his wand, which promptly exploded with a yellow spell. Andrew cackled, even though his face was yellow, then dropped unconscious.

"A booby-trapped wand? Ingenious, Mr. Morton," Professor Potter said as Arthur retrieved his wand and Andrew was levitated to safety. Arthur shrugged as stunning spells zipped into the mass of students, catching Felicia among others. They both looked up as a chandelier shook, crashing to the floor, Mattie appearing, shaking her head. A quick stunning spell; and she was removed from the competition.

Amanda had summoned chairs, transfiguring them into mirrors and charming them to follow her movements. Sprink leaped at her, transforming in midair into her wolven form, knocking her away from her shields. One of the Cortez twins hexed Amanda, while her sister threw a different curse at Sprink.

Charlie and Anne were engaged in a traditional duel, she fired a cutting curse at him, and he twisted away, but not quite in time. The curse zipped a bloody line up his arm, and she dropped her guard for a minute in horror, giving him the chance to stun her. Professor Potter called, "Need the Infirmary, Mr. Adams?"

Charlie shook his head as he eyed Arthur, together they turned to the Cortez twins as Anne was levitated away. With precise spells, Arthur took out the last few students, while Charlie dueled the twins, Arthur moving away. Two heavy textbooks slammed into the sisters' heads, dropping them and leaving Charlie and Arthur standing alone, panting and eyeing each other.

"Very nicely done, Mr. Morton, Mr. Adams!" Professor Harry called. "Do the two of you wish to continue, or split the prize?"

"Split it," Charlie said, and Arthur nodded.

"Excellent work, both of you! Now, if Mr. Morton will revive the class, while I take a look at Mr. Adams' arm."

------------------------

"So what did we learn?" Professor Harry asked once the classroom was restored to normal (minus the chandelier). "Miss Wayne had a good tactical idea, secure the high ground."

"I misjudged the strength of the bolt, though," she admitted. "I thought the featherweight charm I cast on myself would compensate."

"That explains it, then," the professor said. "The combination of an invisibility spell and the featherweight charm means you'll feel much lighter, but in actuality, there's only about a ten percent reduction. How did you get up there, though?" Mattie just smiled, though, and he moved on, "Mr. Morton had a nasty little surprise; I confess I never considered a booby-trapped wand."

"I'm still not happy with the speed of the disabling charm," Arthur admitted. "There are reasons for the yellow color, though."

"Miss Leeds cleverly transfigured objects, remembering the reflector spell, as well as _animus_ and the proper use of _imperio_," Professor Harry said, and Amanda blushed. "However, she forgot about the possibility of a physical attack, something Miss Tonks took advantage of." He paced a bit, adding, "The Cortez twins, as well as Mr. Adams and Mr. Morton used teamwork, and I am disappointed to see quite a few of you simply stood there to start, and were thus easy targets. Miss Wayne, on the other hand, kept moving. Have you dueled before, outside of class, Miss Wayne?"

Anne coughed, and Mattie said, "I dueled a court wizard in 1380, sir. I wanted to take his Grimore, but didn't have time, I had to get people back to Hogwarts."

"Please continue, Miss Wayne," he said. "Who was it?"

"Robert II of Scotland, and his court wizard, sir. He had kidnapped other witches and wizards, and was using mage-bonds on them to drain their power." She smiled softly, "I conjured a machine gun as a distraction to escape the cage he had me in, and then we dueled."

"Clever, what was the mage's name?"

Mattie looked uncomfortable, fidgeted, and finally admitted, "Michael Potter, sir."

------------------------  
**_Friday, June 8, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 07:28  
_**------------------------

Minerva inspected the three girls, nodding in satisfaction at Anne and Mattie. "Miss Yates, is that proper dress for a courtroom in your time?" She nodded, and Minerva transfigured her skirt into a longer version, "We are, however, in the early twenty-first century, and will dress appropriately. Now then, I have no idea how long the trial will last. Are you certain you wish to come, Miss Yates?"

"My murderer is on trial! Of course I want to come!"

Minerva sighed, "Of course." She held out a text, clutching her other bundle of papers, "The portkey will activate in three, two, ..."

------------------------

They appeared, moving through security and into the bowl-shaped courtroom number five, where they took seats. Cassidy looked around, thinking, '_Same as in my time._' She looked over at Mattie, musing '_Her expression, she looks like she did on the vids of her first Olympics in Auckland, proud but nervous. The vid coverage of 'the first billionaire athlete' didn't help._' She chuckled to herself, '_First of three Games, Gran. Best you ever managed is a Bronze, though, to your intense disappointment. You're not a professional athlete, though, and you were running against Kenyans. Pity you died before you could see the Games off Earth..._' Mattie turned, looking her in the eyes.

There was a stir as Lucille Malfoy entered with her solicitor, taking seats next to the empty jury box. They conversed under a privacy spell, while the Crown's solicitor took his place, arranging his papers. Low conversation resumed among the spectators, quieting as the bailiff called, "All rise! The Crown versus Lucille Malfoy!" As people rose, the three hooded jurists entered, taking their seats. The central figure threw aside his hood to reveal Albus Dumbledore. He banged his gavel, saying, "Please be seated."

As people sat, Dumbledore remained standing, stating, "I, Albus Dumbledore, must recuse myself from this case. I was present during the incident in question, and therefore cannot be impartial." He banged his gavel, stepping back and removing his judicial robes, handing them to a bailiff, then moving to take a seat next to Minerva, who squeezed his hand. Another jurist rose, throwing his hood back to state, "I am Percy Weasley, and as Minister of Education, I was also present during the incident in question at Hogwarts. I must therefore also recuse myself." He doffed his robe, folding it neatly before handing it to a bailiff, then taking a vacant place in the spectator's seating.

The last jurist threw back her hood, "I am Amelia Bones, and I will NOT be recusing myself." A chuckle ran around the courtroom, she smiled, "Under our revised legal code, this will therefore be a juried trial. Bailiff, please seat the jury."

Six ordinary witches and wizards filed into the jury box next to the defense table, where Lucille smirked at them. She made a small motion, whispering '_Morsmordre_', and a skull, snake emerging from the mouth appeared from smoke. She smiled cruelly at the jury, and several of them shivered in fear. The smoky death's head disappeared as her attorney touched her arm, leaning close to whisper something.

------------------------

After Minerva was sworn in, the Crown asked, "Ms. McGonagall, please tell us about Miss Malfoy at Hogwarts."

"Miss Malfoy is a ... difficult student," Minerva admitted. "Due, no doubt, to her previous incarnation as Lucius..."

"Objection!" the defense shouted. "My client's past is of no bearing!"

The judge rapped her gavel, "Sustained. Miss Malfoy's past has no bearing on her current behavior. Please continue."

Minerva glanced at them, irritated. "Miss Malfoy had engendered a great deal of hatred among the other students, so much so that we thought it prudent to house her with Ms. Narcissa Black, her former wife."

"Please discuss the events of September first."

"A normal start to the school year, except when Severus, Professor Snape reported that Miss Wayne was missing. We notified DMLE, instituted a search, which was continued onto the train the next morning. We were able to follow her to a particular stall in the girl's loo, where the trail went cold." Minerva continued, "We picked her trail up in the Headmaster's Journal in 1379, where Headmistress Oldridge narrated her day-to-day adventures. I have brought the relevant journals with me from Hogwarts, although they are spelled so only the Headmasters might read them. I have also brought sworn statements from the faculty and students."

"Objection!" Defense called. "We cannot verify these!"

"Oh, but we can!" the Crown replied. "We have a witness that has been brought forward from that time!" The audience murmured, Madame Bones leaning forward from the Bench to ask, "Ghosts cannot testify, you know that."

"She is as alive as you or I," the Crown replied. "We shall reach her testimony in a bit. Ms. McGonagall, please continue."

"Together, each side of the divide in time constructed a device that, when synchronized, would create a temporary ... bridge in time, allowing Miss Wayne and Miss Yates to cross." She paused a minute, adding, "It was difficult enough here, I have no idea how Miss Wayne was able to do it in the Dark Ages. They did, however, and tested it over the Christmas holidays. It was impressively loud," she added.

"You yourself took a little trip, I understand," the Crown asked.

"Indeed I did," Minerva said. "Miss Wayne's mother, becoming understandably concerned about her daughter, contacted a mage she knew. Mage Zatanna contacted others, including Mage Merlin and..." she paused, "... two demons, the Demon Hella and the Demon Etrigan." A ripple of conversation spread around the courtroom, Minerva taking the opportunity to conjure a glass of water.

"Is Miss Wayne a Dark Witch?" the Crown asked.

"She is not, nor is her mother," Minerva replied with a snap. "As you know, Mages are a law unto themselves. Neither of the Waynes summoned demons, who, by the by, were surprisingly ... friendly. The demon Etrigan took me to Hogwarts of the late fourteenth century, where I became acquainted with Headmistress Oldridge, as well as Miss Yates and Miss Anne Bundy." She took another sip of water, adding, "I have brought along from Hogwarts both the relevant copies of the Headmaster's Journal, as well as statements and depositions Alberta, pardon me, Headmistress Oldridge, as well as faculty and students forwarded to me." She tapped the bundle of sealed scrolls.

"Bailiff, please copy the scrolls and enter them into evidence," Madame Bones said, and Minerva handed them to him.

------------------------

"I call Miss Anne Bundy!"

Anne stood, making her way to the floor, where she was administered the oath: "On my magic, I swear to tell the truth." The Crown paced a bit, before asking, "Please state the place and date of your birth."

"Bundy Manor, London, November 25, 1365."

"You don't look six hundred years old," he said, and she smiled. "Tell us how you came here, Miss Bundy." She started to reply, when he said, "No, on second thought, how did you meet Miss Wayne?"

"The Headmistress introduced her at the start of term. We were informed that she was visiting from the future, and we were not to press her on the future, on pain of memory wipe and expulsion," Anne said. "Despite her best efforts, she let some things slip, particularly the two times she forgot her silencing spell when she went to bed." Mattie buried her face in her hands as Anne smiled, "She was particularly... lonely for a fellow named Arthur, and after she returned from the Dark Mage's castle. However, it was after her first trip off planet that we met Miss Yates."

"Off planet?"

"She acquired a starship and her boon companion, Miss Yates on a trip to another star. I do confess to stowing away on one trip," Anne admitted. "Another star with other forms of intelligent life, it was _most_ remarkable. Some the size of a bug, some twelve feet in height and covered with fur."

The Crown's solicitor blinked as the courtroom erupted in conversation, and Madame Bones banged her gavel to restore order. When he could be heard again, he asked, "The starship is not a figment of Miss Wayne's imagination? It actually exists?"

"Indeed it does, I hold a spacer's guild certification," Anne snapped. "You thought we were all alone? The galaxy teems with life!" The courtroom erupted again.

"How did you arrive in our time, then?"

"I pined to journey to the future, and when it was determined that such a trip would not affect the future history, a plan was determined to do so." Anne turned pensive, "I last saw my family alive at Christmas in 1379, where I discussed the plan with my father. With his consent, we arranged things to falsify my death in the fourteenth century to maintain the timeline. The Headmistress did transfigure a pig that was thrown off the Girl's tower to its death. What you know as the Astronomy tower," she added. "I then entered stasis aboard the starship, whereupon I slept those six hundred years, awaking February first of this year on one of Neptune's moons."

"Why February?" Madame Bones asked.

"It was felt best that I have time available to adjust to this century. It is quite different," she admitted with a small smile. "I must offer my gratitude to you, Miss Malfoy. Had you not cast the spell to send Miss Wayne back in time, I would not have met her."

"Objection!" Defense called, "Unproven assumption!"

"I know what I know!" Anne called as the gavel banged. "'Twere not for her, I would now be dust, ignorant of the wider galaxy!" The gavel banged again, the courtroom settling back down.

Madame Bones asked, "Are you willing to stipulate your client casting a time-travel spell? That does seem to be a common thread in this testimony." The defense huddled with his client under a privacy spell. Banishing it, he stood and addressed the court, "My client admits to casting a temporal spell to eliminate her enemy, Miss Wayne. We admit nothing else."

"No further questions for this witness," the Crown said, Defense standing to shake his head. Madame Bones told Anne, "You are dismissed, thank you for your testimony." As Anne made her way back to the spectators' seats, Madame Bones added, "We shall take a break for lunch. Jury, please follow the bailiff where you will eat, everyone else, please return in ninety minutes, at... two o'clock."

------------------------

Defense stood to address the court. He paced back and forth, "My client is charged with usage of Avada in the murder of Miss Cassidy Yates, an associated charge of manslaughter as my client's alleged target was Miss Wayne. There is a charge of attempted murder of Miss Wayne. As we know, Avada causes instant death, therefore, without the Unforgivable; there is no case against my client. I therefore call as a witness..." he looked about the court, "Miss Cassidy Yates!"

People murmured, then there were shocked gasps as Cassidy stood, making her way to the witness stand. The crown's solicitor put his face in his hands.

------------------------

After Cassidy was sworn, Defense asked her, "Please state the location and date of your birth."

"Mars station, March 15, 2367 using a Terran calendar," she replied calmly. "Different planets use different calendars, of course, and stations use the ones of the planets they orbit. Ships use their home station's calendars and clocks." She addressed the court, "I won't answer questions about the future, though."

"It seems confusing," Defense admitted, and Cassidy smiled. He waited a moment, but she didn't elaborate. "Why won't you answer questions about the future?"

"I'll change it if I do," Cassidy replied. "For instance, if you know the date and place of your death, you'd avoid it." He nodded, "While I don't know everyone's, I do know several peoples', and if that changes, it creates an effect, similar to that game, what's it called, with the small blocks in a row."

"Dominoes," someone said, and she nodded. "Thanks. The net effect is people will die when they shouldn't, other people don't die when they should. If I answer, I could potentially kill millions of people."

People murmured, and Madame Bones gaveled again for quiet. She told Cassidy, "You are excused from those questions, then."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"How did you meet Miss Wayne?" Defense asked.

Cassidy thought for a moment, "Chained nude to a display pole in a slave market on Eridani III." She waited for the ripple of comment (and Madame Bone's gavel), to restore order, then explained, "I had been kidnapped, and managed to time-jump in escape, burning out my magic in the process. It just got me a change of masters, but when my master laid eyes on Mattie, he gave me to her, and ran for orbit." She smiled at the memory, adding, "She didn't want a slave, but we wound up being forced to play Mistress and slave until she could free me legally, a long, involved and expensive process. That's when we got the starship."

"I find myself most curious to see this starship," Madame Bones said, to general agreement.

"I brought Alfred's remote, but the Yates would never fit in here," Cassidy said. "He's a small ship, but not that small."

"Who is Alfred?"

"I am," the holographic head said, as people turned. "I am the manumitted Class II artificial intelligence aboard the Yates."

"Thank you, sir, but Miss Yates is testifying now," Madame Bones said. He sniffed, and the Defense proceeded, "Miss Wayne bought you..."

"I was _given_ to her," Cassidy clarified. "We played Mistress and slave in public, in private, we were partners. We needed each other, I needed her legal protection; she needed my knowledge. Together, we built the time machine, and passed the specifications uptime through Headmistress Oldridge."

"What happened to it after you left?" Madame Bones asked.

"It was dismantled and placed aboard the Yates," Cassidy replied. She mused, "I had a sob session with Minerva when she visited, and she forced me to realize what might happen. I was fated to die April first, and so I did, but I wasn't enthusiastic about it, knowing the exact time and place of my death." This caused a ripple of comment.

"Yet you are here, and manifestly alive," Defense said. "No murder, no crime committed."

"I _was_ murdered," Cassidy replied hotly. "I have the scar above my heart, and I can tell you exactly what happens with the Killing Curse. I've spent the last two months in the ship's sickbay having my body rebooted after Mattie got me there in time."

"Ah, but HOW did she know?" Defense asked.

"We moved the ship closer, Minerva suggested it."

Defense smirked, "I have no more questions, I simply wish to reiterate, no murder, no crime. We have the alleged victim sitting in the witness box, alive as any of you."

"Does the Crown have questions for this witness?" Madame Bones asked. He shook his head, and she said, "The jury is released to deliberate."

------------------------

The jury room was chaotic. One finally climbed on the table, shouting "Shut UP, you lot!" They calmed down, and he continued, "We have to have a unanimous verdict to convict. Now, unofficially, how many think she killed Yates?"

Four hands rose, along with his, and they looked at the lone holdout. The elderly witch shivered, "She's a Death Eater! I can't have more of my family dead! I can't..."

A younger witch placed her hand on her shoulder, "This isn't official, and this is just how we're thinking. Do you think she did it?" The older witch sniffled, tentatively raised her hand in agreement.

"We're agreed, then," the wizard said. "The problem we face is we can't convict her, because she'll come after us. Any of you lot trust the Ministry to protect us?" There were snorts of disgust, and he asked, "Any of you lot Slytherin? We need a plan."

The younger witch raised her hand, "I'm a Slythie, but I don't see anything right away. We're boxed, if we return a divided vote, she walks; if we convict she comes after us. You lot do understand that IS Lucius Malfoy, You-Know-Who's right hand man? Azkaban's never held him for long, even if we vote to convict."

"Pity there's no death penalty," another wizard commented. "I'd feel better about a conviction if there was a possibility she'd receive the veil."

"We voted it down, though, and a 'life' sentence is a hundred years," a fourth said. "Bloody brilliant, that was."

"But how would she know how to find us?" the elderly witch said. The younger witch patted her hand, "They'll find us, dear. If we vote to convict, I'm moving to Canada."

A wizard levitated around a tea set, "I wish we had a third option," he admitted. "Why don't we go over the testimony?"

"I was surprised at Yates's appearance," the first said. "Her showing up gutted the Crown's case like a fish. I'm surprised nobody asked her to stay away."

"I'm sure they tried," the younger witch said. "I would have." She addressed the table, "Let's take it step by step. Does everyone believe Wayne was cursed back in time?"

People nodded, and the first wizard said, "Hooking up with Yates, and buying the starship?"

"I'd like to see the bloody thing," the younger witch said. "Does everyone believe their building something to come forward in time?"

"This is so _complicated_!" the older witch fretted. "Why couldn't she stay there?"

The third witch, silent until now, snorted, "Would you? Would you want to stay away from family and friends, knowing the wrong word could kill millions? I wouldn't. I'd like to know how she got off planet, but the question is: did Malfoy kill Yates by accident? I think she did, when she was trying for Wayne. Except that if I vote to convict and you lot doesn't, Malfoy walks."

"That's the problem, isn't it? Malfoy goes free and we hopefully stay alive, or we vote to convict and we're dead."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, June 9, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 12:14  
_**------------------------

Minerva stopped by the Gryffindor table, "Miss Wayne, Miss Bundy. I've just received an owl that the jury has reached a verdict. Change quickly into a fresh uniform, and meet me in the Entrance hall if you wish to hear it."

------------------------

As Anne struggled with her tights, she asked, "How was your potion?"

As Mattie adjusted her tie, "Too thin, and the wrong shade of brown, yours?"

"It should have been clear, but was like thin milk instead."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, June 9, 2001:  
London, Charing Cross Station, DMLE, Courtroom five: 12:28  
_**------------------------

"The jury has come to an impasse and I have been assured that further deliberations will serve no useful purpose," Madame Bones stated. "Please stand, Miss Malfoy." She examined the note again, eyeglasses on the tip of her nose. "They vote five to one in favor of conviction; however, they have taken an Unbreakable Oath not to reveal who voted which way. Therefore, under the rules of jurisprudence enacted by the new wizarding constitution, the case against Miss Malfoy is declared 'Not Proven'."

The outrage of the spectators was beaten down by a banging gavel. "We will have order in this court or I will clear it." Quiet returned, slowly enough that Madame Bones glared harshly at those who were slow to retake their seats.

"Miss Malfoy, your bail, wand and property is ordered returned to you and you are free to go. Court is adjourned." Her gavel rang down with finality.

------------------------


	20. Week Forty Three, Third Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.  
------------------------  
20 – Week Forty Three, Third Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, June 10, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 06:45  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

Copies of the Reporter were snatched, the banner headline announcing: **MALFOY: NOT PROVEN**. Across the Great Hall, people looked up as a large flock of owls dropped mail in front of Lucille Malfoy, sitting by herself at one end of the Gryffindor table. She sneered, banishing the Howlers, opening one in particular. Reading it, she tossed it aside as it burst into flame. Ignoring the rest, she rose, paying no attention to the eyes that followed her.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, June 10, 2001:  
London, "Speaker's Corner", Hyde Park: 09:54  
_**------------------------

Dressed in her school uniform, Lucille claimed a spot at the end of a bench, watching in amusement as a muggle ranted at the indifferent crowd. She twisted open the bottle of water she had bought from a muggle vendor, drinking deeply. Touching her wand to the bottle, she cast replenishment and chilling charms, then opening a charms book, she settled down to wait.

------------------------

"Thank you for coming, Miss Malfoy," a voice said quietly. "Oh, don't bother turning about, I'm under several glamour spells. You don't even know if I'm male or female."

"I am here, dressed and equipped as you specified," Lucille replied, equally quietly. "How do I solve the problem of Dumbledore, Potter and Wayne?"

"Very simply: '_Imperio_!'" As Lucille stiffened, the voice told her, "When you hear the church bells strike noon, you will place your charm book on your lap, and with the tip of your wand under your chin, you will cast _Avada Kedavra_ on yourself. Do you understand?"

"I do..." Lucille replied in a dreamy voice.

"Then the problem is solved," the voice said. "I'll be nearby, in case you happen to throw off the Imperious. Either way, Avada will be cast at noon. By the by, this is a throwaway wand, not my personal one. No Ministry tracking spells, you do know so many useful people, Lucille. Ta!" The figure got up and left, as a small part of Lucille tried desperately to throw off the spell. The rest of her picked up the charm book and resumed reading.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, June 10, 2001:  
London, "Speaker's Corner", Hyde Park: 12:00  
_**------------------------

'_No, this cannot be_!' a small part of Lucille screamed in her mind as the church bells started to sound. She watched in silent dismay as her hands neatly inserted a bookmark, closing the book and laying it face-up in her lap. Removing her wand from her sleeve, she placed the tip under her chin, and softly said, '_Avada Kedavra_'. None of the muggles noticed the small flash of green light.

------------------------  
**_Hell  
_**------------------------

Lucille arrived at the Gates, staggering a bit. "G'won, get in line," one demon told her, as other souls arrived with flashes of light.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, June 10, 2001:  
London, "Speaker's Corner", Hyde Park: 17:20  
_**------------------------

"Y'all right there, miss?" the bobby asked. Getting no answer, he touched her, finding her body cold to the touch and without a pulse. Stepping back, he radioed in for a crime scene vehicle.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, June 10, 2001:  
London, New Scotland Yard, coroner's office: 20:45  
_**------------------------

Dr. Downing, chief pathologist, started on examining the Jane Doe, tentatively identified as 'Lucille Malfoy' (according to her textbooks). After photographing, weighing and measuring the body, it was undressed and examined, while he took more notes and photographs, commenting for the recorders, "This is most unusual. So far, she is in perfect physical shape. Without going in, I can see no obvious causes of death, no needle marks, not even vaccination marks. There is a scar where her chin was resting on the rod, with a lightning shaped scar centered on that point. She has all her teeth, not a single cavity or filling. She is a remarkably healthy girl of about thirteen, with moderate musculature, about ... (he measured) an A cup, no piercings, not even for earrings. What do the blood tests show?"

"Absolutely average, doctor, consistent with a regular, healthy diet, no fatigue poisons, not even high cholesterol." He motioned, "Normal blood pooling and lividity for the position of the body. Shall I turn her over?"

"Shall we?" More samples were taken; Lucille's last meal was discussed (eggs, bacon, toast, tea), more photographs taken. The body was returned face up, and Dr. Downing said, "There's nothing for it. Scalpel?"

------------------------  
**_Monday, June 11, 2001:  
London, New Scotland Yard, homicide office: 09:02  
_**------------------------

"Bloody wonderful, the boffins can't find a cause of death," Mylor "Mike" Briggs said, throwing down the folder with the autopsy report.

"What does it say?" Amanda Stratton, his partner asked, reaching for the folder.

Mike picked it up and tossed it to her. "A total cessation of electrical activity in the body," he quoted. "Similar to a massive heart attack, but without the other signs of a heart attack; it's as if everything suddenly stopped. Her heart, lungs, everything just ... stopped. Brain death occurred a few minutes later, but the only thing they can find is a small lightning-shaped scar under her chin."

"Wait a minute," Amanda said, digging through the file. She glanced back and forth between photos of the crime scene and the autopsy; tossing them to her partner, "Where her rod was touching. Her right hand was gripping it, holding it in place. Could it be some form of suicide?"

"What's her motive?" Mike asked, wincing as he took a sip of his now-cool tea. "By her kit, she was at least upper-middle class; all of it looked, if not new, barely used. The only thing that looked at all worn was her ... rod." He sat heavily, automatically adjusting for the missing wheel on his chair.

"Who can tell these days? What about her texts?" she asked, looking over her own teacup. "Spellcasting, potions, transfiguration..." She took a contemplative sip, "If they weren't laid out exactly like every other textbook I've seen, I'd..." She looked at Mike over the rim of her teacup, "They all reference... magic, and they include instruction in use of a wand, precisely like the one she was holding." She sipped, "So now it's a wand, instead of a rod," she said. "You do realize that we're both assuming she's a ..." she took a breath, finishing, "Witch; something that's not supposed to exist outside of fairy tales and Halloween."

"It is strange," Mike admitted. "She was cold as ice, but the water bottle next to her was still cold. We found the receipt, it was bought several hours before she was found, so it shouldn't be cold, but it was, it _still_ is, and it refills itself!" He scrubbed his face, adding, "Her name is apparently Lucille Malfoy, but we couldn't find any trace of her; nor the school she apparently attends, Hogwarts. The labels inside her clothing are totally unknown, and the book's titles, and the ... wand she was holding, it could be she's an actual..."

"Witch?" Amanda asked uncertainly, "What else fits the evidence?"

------------------------  
**_Monday, June 11, 2001:  
London, New Scotland Yard, homicide office: 16:57  
_**------------------------

"H'lo," Tonks said with a smile. She tossed her ID on the desk, "I'm Tonks, and this is my partner Shacklebolt, with Special Branch."

"We're here to pick up the body of one Lucille Malfoy," Kingsley rumbled, the fluorescent lights reflecting off his bald scalp. "Coroner won't release her without you signing off." He offered them a folder with paperwork, "If you'd be so kind."

The two homicide detectives looked at each other, while one handed the ID back, the other pulled together some folders, asking "Why don't we go into the conference room? It would be a bit more private."

Tonks shrugged, "Lead on, mate."

------------------------

The two detectives took their places as Kingsley closed the door. As he took a seat, Mike asked, "Why don't we get things out in the open? You two can start by very slowly placing your wands on the table." Kingsley and Tonks blinked, Amanda adding, "The ones in your left sleeves. Slowly, please." She added, "Just so you know, when you closed the door, it locked. We can unlock it, or our partners outside can, once we give them the all-clear. By the by, Special Branch changed their ID's about four months ago." Leaning forward, she added, "Let's start with seeing some real ID, as well as your wands."

Tonks looked at Kingsley; very slowly she drew her wand, placing it in the center of the table. Reaching in a pocket, she drew her ID, tossing it on the desktop next to her wand. Kingsley placed his next to hers, Mike picking it up, "So, Shacklebolt is your real name. What's DMLE?"

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he rumbled in reply. "Why don't you simply sign off? We'll wipe your memories, take Malfoy, and everyone will be happy."

Amanda replied, "You're already on the hook for two counts, impersonating a law enforcement officer and assault on one. Both are felonies, by the by." She steepled her hands, "Why don't you start with who Miss Malfoy is, or was."

"A simple schoolgirl, we're to take her back to her family," Tonks said.

With a snort, Amanda replied, "She may have dressed like one, but those aren't texts I recall from my A-levels. Just what are charms? Potions I can guess at, but what about transfiguration?" Mike reached out to pick up a wand, idly swishing it about. They were all surprised when sparks came out of it.

Kingsley looked at his partner, who nodded. "All right, the truth. Charms are spells that make something behave un-naturally, like making a chair move."

"Still haven't seen anything," Mike replied.

Tonks sighed, saying, "Pick a colour, please."

"Green," Mike said.

Kingsley groaned, as Tonks cheerfully explained from under a mop of bright green hair, "My house colour at Hogwarts, his was red. Would you rather have blue?" Without waiting for a reply, blue washed over her hair, it changing from a frizzy mop to a mohawk.

The two muggles glanced at each other, Kingsley asking, "You don't seem very surprised about magic."

"Witchcraft was our working hypothesis," Amanda confessed.

Kingsley grunted and resumed, "There is a world wide community of wizards living with you, the muggle or non-wizarding world. Miss Malfoy is, or was, a Dark Wizard who ran afoul of a disguise charm, and was trapped as a young girl. A corrupt politician gave her the new identity, and enrolled her in Hogwarts." He reclaimed his wand, pointing it at a pen, which stood on end and started to take dictation.

The homicide cops looked at the pen, then each other. "A dark wizard? Do you mean a terrorist?"

Tonks nodded, "As part of her botched disguise, her old identity was declared dead, so she's been living with her former wife, who's her legal guardian. Malfoy was a nasty one, killed and tortured muggles for sport." She smiled, "Pity we can't share files, we could probably solve quite a few cases for you." She pushed her folder forward hopefully, "Sign?"

Mike shook his head. "Too many questions still. What and where is Hogwarts?"

"A school, for what you'd call the A-levels. Students eleven through eighteen," Kingsley replied. "Its north of here, and that's all we'll say on that. Sorry."

"So how did Malfoy die?"

"We don't know," Tonks admitted. "We haven't had the opportunity to examine the body." The homicide files were passed over, and they were silent as they read.

"If she was forced..." Tonks finished reading the case file, trading a look with her partner. "I'd love to have a copy of this file."

"For some more answers," the male detective said. "How would she be forced?"

"There are forbidden spells, what we call the Unforgivables," Kingsley replied. "One of which is to force another to do your bidding, to the victim it seems like the most logical thing in the world. You can force another to do anything, including kill."

"Another Unforgivable, the killing curse," Tonks added. "The lightning-shaped scar is distinctive." She tapped the folder, "Definitely murder, but nobody's going to cry for her. She had too many enemies."

Kingsley rumbled. "Malfoy was the wrong personality to commit suicide. She was an arrogant pureblood, the only reason she'd do it is..."

"Pureblood?" Amanda asked. "Some sort of racial thing?"

"Essentially," Kingsley rumbled. "Pureblood families like the Malfoys can trace their family trees back thousands of years. It has caused quite a bit of inbreeding, as the only acceptable arrangement for their children's marriages has been to other pureblood families. However, with Malfoy's death, and his murder of his son a few years ago, his line is now extinct."

"You're wizards, I'll admit, and you sound like cops," Mike said, "I don't like the whole 'memory wiping' thing, though. You know this entire conversation is being taped, if you try to wipe our memories, all we need do is play it back."

------------------------

"So, will you sign?" Kingsley rumbled.

"I propose a trade," Mike said, with a glance at his partner. "You leave our memories be, Amanda and I make sure there's only one copy of the tape and it's in our possession, you walk out of here with the signatures you need and copies of the case files."

"Acceptable," Kingsley rumbled, adding, "An alliance might prove beneficial to both of us." They each looked at their partners, Amanda asking, "You know the King's Hangman? It's a pub west of the Marble Arch tube station, near the Tyburn Tree. This Saturday at noon good?"

The door buzzed to unlock, Kingsley turning the knob. A fellow looked up, "'Lo, Shacklebolt. We've gotten all these."

"Don't worry about these two, they're done," he rumbled. The obliviator nodded, and apparated out.

"Saturday at the Hangman," Tonks said, and Mike nodded. They disappeared with a pop, as Mike let out his breath, and looked at his partner. "Helluva bluff," she said.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, June 12, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:29  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

The banner headline on the Reporter read: **MALFOY DEAD!** People read over other's shoulders as the news was discussed. Connie was heard to say, "Good riddance!"

------------------------  
**_Friday, June 15, 2001:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 17:03  
_**------------------------

Minerva entered the Great Hall, pausing at the Slytherin table. "Miss Yates, as this is the Leaving Feast, I must ask you to join your House table."

"Aw, but..." She looked at the surprised faces, then sighed, "Yes, ma'am." She stood, adding, "I was really looking forward to seeing a working TV, too."

"You're not a Slytherin?" Emma asked.

"Sorry, no. I didn't mean to deceive you, it just never came up," Cassidy admitted. "I am a Hogwarts graduate, though, class of 2385, and the first Gryff in 130 years, everyone else in the family was either a 'claw or a Slythie. There was a Huffie somewhere too." She smiled again, "Sorry."

------------------------

Minerva stood, tapping her butter knife against her goblet. Conversation quieted down as she gazed about the Great Hall. When she was satisfied, she stated, "Another year draws to a close. For now, we bid farewell to some of our friends, once seventh-years, now graduates."

Someone whooped from Gryffindor, and pandemonium erupted again. Minerva stood, waiting patiently, and the noise died down once more. "Thank you," she said primly, adding, "We now come to the announcement of the Quidditch cup. Gryffindor," she winced, "with 130 points, Hufflepuff, with ..."

With a small pop of displaced air, a small blue figure popped into existence in front of the high table. He turned in midair, and several people gasped as they recognized a Guardian in their red robes. He intoned, "Green Lantern, you are needed."

Mattie glowered at him from Slytherin. '_I'm busy, come back later_,' she thought.

The Guardian turned toward her, "Green Lantern, you are needed," he repeated.

"I said I'm busy, come back later," she repeated, out loud this time. "There are three other Lanterns on this planet," she said, standing. "I have other commitments." Turning toward the high table, she apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't know he'd be coming. Please pardon the interruption."

"You are needed, Green Lantern. Come at once."

"The least you could do is to tell me why you're insisting on me," she complained. "And what do you plan to do about the galactic slave trade?"

"You will not dictate your morality or ethics upon others until you have resolved the problem on your own world. You are needed. Come," the Guardian insisted.

"Letting billions of sentient creatures decide their own fate is a matter of _my_ imposed ethics? I don't think so. As a matter of fact, I hereby resign from the Green Lantern Corps, not that I really wanted your silly Ring in the first place." Mattie declared as she strode up to stand face to face with him. With a twist, she pulled the Ring off her finger, pulling out his hand and slapping it in his palm. "I quit."

"You _dare_ to touch my person?" he said, surprised.

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," she said, turning. "You bet I dare." Mattie looked at the High Table, "Professor, shall I escort him out?"

"Who... who is that?"

"Ganthet, one of the Guardians of Oa, creator of the Green Lantern Corps, and billion-year old galactic busybody," Mattie replied cheerfully. She raised an eyebrow, "Out?"

"If you would, please," Mattie's hand moved forward, and with a motion, she was thrown away, crashing against the Hufflepuff bench. Ganthet floated in midair, a green shell of energy surrounding him. She shook her head, saying "I was trying to be polite. There was no need to do that." She stood, stalking toward him as students scurried away, and she started to mutter a spell. A white nimbus of energy formed around her as she floated in midair, globes of energy around her fists forming wind currents as she floated to face Ganthet.

"Cease this petulant behavior at once. Come," the blue man stated in a voice Mattie felt as much as heard.

"I've tried to be polite, but I said, NO!" she told him, as the wind picked up, flames flickering as the hundreds of floating candles went out, dropping from midair. A ghostlike aura of magic started swirling around her as, for the first time in centuries, Hogwarts castle groaned.

"Yellow spells!" Arthur called from Hufflepuff, drawing his wand and firing at the Guardian. Soon, a crescendo of spells were hitting the Guardian's shield, as Mattie backed off, white energy circling her as the castle shook, small stones and dust falling from the walls. With a 'crash', a window blew out, the beams supporting the ceiling of the Great Hall creaking in protest.

"You are still young," the Guardian said clearly over the howl of magic and the tortured cries of the building. "You channel the source energies of one planet; I control the energies of the universe. You have impressed me." With a wave of his hand, Mattie was thrown away, sliding down the Hufflepuff table with a wave of broken crockery. Two first-years kept her from sliding off.

Cassidy caught her arm from the Gryffindor table, popping out her tan wand from Mattie's right sleeve as she lay unconscious. Bracing her foot against a bench, she took careful aim and started firing spells at the Guardian, muttering, "Knock out MY Grandma, you deal with ME!" They managed to knock him back, the barrage resuming.

This also brought her to the Guardian's attention, who looked her over. "Out of time? We shall correct that." With a wave of his hand, they both disappeared.

30


End file.
